pi 








i. . 


ROLD IMKU 


1)T C>< 

i Am«‘ ^ 




H: ^ 


i.. i....»4; r • ■ H 




• ' ' t i : • .■'*.? 4 ■ ;' ^. i *, * * ' > T ■■ J^ ■ i'; i. 1 i 4 ^ J 

■ , .■ •• ’ • ‘.Uti ■ . .r • 


- :; - j.: 
I:. •.'. ’ 


. M ‘ . 


‘* I. • I ‘ • I 

••Is! 

• i •••«!»»»'S 


. /1 .. «..•••t I> I « 


» . ■ . * • - ■ f , 1 - i ' • • >' • 4 j * t \ M »{«t: 

. •. • • . !> -• .1 .>,t »' 

' . * r •. • 1 •. ‘ ‘ ‘ i i s' •’.* M ' 

1 ;| « f. • III*' 

, • ., . • . ■, ' • ; i; u . • s • { •. • ♦, .;. . . . ■ ., • • }, *; • . • f,; • 5 . ‘ 

. ‘ s ! -. '.• s | 1 ;U .'*/*:• s * . s .i {l{ii!\Ii} 

s.sihi •. 

‘ ;. *.» , *. • . J . W . J. ■ ' * i ‘ | * », * • ‘ i J 




. ; ; r;;r < 1 ; 


. •. j, . 1 .. :r. h:.'. ;■ ?. s >,lhi inhl'liliji; *; i If 

.4 T. ■ S 4 ‘ .K f. itpli Mrii'* .n tlK5|;i 

*■' ‘ ■ ‘‘‘■ ’I*’v ‘I'■ t■ i • ■ !i‘ii *!’ii' 

• , ■’1;:'> i 1 i-. ’!, It!'* ■ H fUj j;‘it}': jfh lUj 


4 , r*; .'i • •• • 1’ ^.1! ' I 441 * * f* ^ 


; - . r . ■ ; S’ , • 

. ' i : . I {. • 


4;v,Mi 4 .•• 4 I.*4. r ,;!m 

v' -'ii;;!;:- ‘ 11; 

■. :i;. :‘r’.-4;.It, • . ;. ♦ ' m ‘ ‘tt** ■ ‘ 

4*4 . V « •. »i ‘ ‘UKl'ti! * 


... . • ' . I i ; . -T. . . - . . . . , . ■ f'. S w f.I-t * • 

; ■■ ■: !; . ■/■•: : ■ • •::: : ' li; r hr 

. 1 ... '*4 ': a.;; ,4-;:' r il.r iHiithw. 


. ', • •. ‘ ■'. * - i ’ M • t; *. M'.. f * • ‘ ‘^»t • t i s f ’ n 111 f • 

. • • • 4 . .* IMI > 1 . .*• ,1 ‘ {.IJjit ,4. 

■ • • • :;.:iS;ihhh; hi;!! it 

. r, s • . s; ?i. • ‘ i M; '‘; V‘;• * I.! i. U^; s i s; I 

• » « »• !«• I; I »fVt* * t L \ f ^ 

■ ■ • ‘ 4 •1,. ■..! ^. f * 1 • M; , • ; ‘ .M I 

•. •. ' . - ■ t *; ' • • i I ' I. s 'IS. M ■ ? 4»:. j : n M • r.; • a ‘ i 

r r :*i . •.4‘,.‘ 11 ‘ M * i; ‘ Mi r.’, •;'* ; I US i; |i vl; I 

• » ' •» <. »I ■ .4 . . • ‘; ’. .. 11 

.4 ' M I' 1*1 41,4. .1' *SSlt^iiM\ 

• •, ' •; i j! m m ^ • T s ‘.' •;‘: iiS! 1>1 i i i . 

• • t t . * ’ 4 . . I J . , ,i _ J 1 4 . 4 ^ 1 « • I ■ • ; • • V ; J I S 4 4* 

•: ■.*■ ■'•, - •; s ’ ’^;:;u*;;u;ss. '‘|j'ii!U^ j.;:’ 't‘ m-*; ijK:ri;r 
4 4 • • ■ ‘ *.' , ■ ‘ S s j * u s ■ ‘; • »1. j; s i; U p r. M i |, t 

• . • • ' • . . S' .4 i... 4 . • S 4;. 1 ' ?.: S ' I ‘ n S . - •, ss i : 









































^ Mfl}^ ^ 



--: 0 ^ . 


^b. ^ ''i- 

-„ \ ’"° v' "■> 





f * f) 


0^ ^ 0 N 0 

«► 

I> 

8 I 1 S *> «■ / O M 0 ^ 

' 'py. - ■«■ 

^ oV*’ ''•^ ^ , 

^ 'n'^ 0 N c . ^ ^ o A^ -'-'«« ^ a ^ y'*‘ ^G J i> ^ 

o„ ft O' \ ^ 

; '^O 0 ^ r 

xo^. tlUe^: ■ • 





‘Sira ^ av 









* .‘o 

'V »”" „^<, <^ ''‘'7 .--' ,,. -i!- 'o., 

O 0‘ c ® ^ ^ * i? ‘o 

Cl ■> _l^.^s.. '' I-A ^ 

•c —'rr^ 


^ ^i^/t?7Pr>'^K> 'r-c^5\v w ^^/rTT-i^'^ '■-^ C 

^ : -oo^ 

" - 1 - „/»^ o \0 c> » * 4 -y 

r/- 3 M 0 \^ 




f<- 

'^v 

tS‘ 

<V > 05 <A\\>y^ 

^ r 

® 

IS^yy 2! 

% 


/ 

■^. o aLnwIi 

r? 

.#■ 

2 

* 



$ 


'S:"‘'/> 

k 



<0 



♦ 0 ; o ’ ■ /" 

A-i--^.^«<iS5i:'^% ip^ .-'•■V-'" 

^ ^ </?. - MiA ^ % y -. - 

Z < z fy - y 

'o. k* jj^ <■ s A 

^ a ''"^ ^ 

^ ^ ^ ^ ^ o' 

* vO O^ 


o'-' * » 





■>’ <»'' 



t 0 ^ <^ <. '^ " a'^^ 


, 0 - 9 :> 

^ k'"^" =■:« “\> I.' *». 

\ z y ><%nrcc^ " 

‘■^ <i? ^- '=> 

rp^ o ^ ^ -i yy y 

V - V ' • '^/- ' » ” ■■ * -l*^ 





«>»^cs._ A" 











■p 

- "'00'^ 



V ^ 




'> - ■V C‘ \' s- 

^ 

0 ■<<• .V 




* -V '^. 
V - 


e U'//>i((s\W . d"? ^ >5=3||lll!||t(ill^:i;^ O A*' a Of '/ 

V / ■^- ° 

' ' • ./'b.'"'' *, 0 ^.»^ '• */%' * * ' 

✓ 




,^’‘' ,0 

' w.. 





^ - 

I ^ 4 i O • <;X^ i' 

M a ’ \V ^ <r 

s' ' C‘ \> ^ 




8 I ' 


>- .''^IMP' s 

V . 4 ' • * •'c 

-K' '' ' 

>,'5 *. 

<r 

To’’ \<t.' 

^‘ 5 ' .'If-al", % '■ , 

'V^ <»r Arm^ o ^ 




t. ^ '^4 » 


o 0 ^ 


> * 0 


-Vi.s'' V^ ^fwv"^ ,0 . ^ 

^ 'f^t ^ '" •>' V c -V 

^ ^ ^ ^ §m\& » ^0^ , <. 

. o" o'^ - " " 

)t . ^ ^ v» 

‘’^ 8 I \ 


,0 o^ 


V 

V', aX^’ 

t/' 


» * 


s\' 


s'*"" 0 no' ^X*^ 

c,^ «■ ^Ir. aV ^ 

<> V ^ 

■> ' ' * s\' ” ’ ' * .p-^^^c “ “ " » /-C' ' " ' ' A*' '-. 


'V 




<p 

S^ 0 4 ^ >. " vO o 




'> Vo .# 

" " ' V' S. " " 0 

'^<<.. A^. 






C#' ^ "''' % r\-' 

^ 8 , A* ^ ^ ^ N - \ 

^ . 0 ' ^ 

s> A 














VANE OF THE TIMBERLANDS 






VANE OF THE 
TIMBERLANDS 


BY 

HAROLD BINDLOSS 

AUTHOR OF 

“WINSTON OF THE PRAIRIE,” “ LORIMER OF THE NORTHWEST,” 
“THURSTON OF ORCHARD VALLEY,” “SYDNEY 
CARTERET; RANCHER,” ETC. 



> > 

> ) ) 

• > > 

NEW YORK 

FREDERICK A. STOKES'COMPANY 

PUBLISHERS 









ALL RIGHTS RESERVED, INCLUDING THAT OF TRANSLATION 
INTO FOREIGN LANGUAGES, INCLUDING THE SCANDINAVIAN 


COPYRIGHT, 1911, BY FREDERICK A. STOKES COMPANY 
PUBLISHED IN ENGLAND UNDER THE TITLE, “THE PROTECTOR'* 


< C 
( < C 


©CI,A2.s:)!)43 






CONTENTS 


CHAPTER PAGE 

I A Friend in Need .i 

II A Breeze of Wind.15 

III An Afternoon Ashore.30 

IV A Change of Environment.42 

V The Old Country.56 

VI Upon the Heights.69 

VII Storm-Stayed.82 

VIII Lucy Vane.96 

IX Chisholm Proves Amenable.108 

X With the Otter Hounds.120 

XI Vane Withdraws.134 

XII In Vancouver.147 

XIII A New Project.156 

XIV Vane Sails North.167 

XV The First Misadventure.176 

XVI The Bush.186 

XVII Vane Postpones the Search.198 

XVIH Jessy Confers a Favor . ’. ^.208 

XIX Vane Foresees Trouble ,.220 

XX The Flood.229 

XXI Vane Yields a Point.238 

XXII Evelyn Goes for a Sail.253 

XXIII Vane Proves Obdurate.266 

XXIV Jessy Strikes.277 

XXV The Intercepted Letter.289 



























CONTENTS 


CHAPTER PAGE 

XXVI On the Trail.301 

XXVII The End of the Search. 313 

XXVIII Carroll Seeks Help. 326 

XXIX Jessy’s Contrition. 338 

XXX Convincing Testimony.353 

XXXI Vane is Reinstated. 363 








VANE OF THE TIMBERLANDS 




VANE OF THE TIMBERLANDS 


CHAPTER I 


A FRIEND IN NEED 


LIGHT breeze, scented with the smell of the firs, 



^ ^ was blowing down the inlet, and the tiny ripples 
it chased across the water splashed musically against 
the bows of the canoe. They met her end-on, spark¬ 
ling in the warm sunset light, gurgled about her sides, 
and trailed away astern in two divergent lines as the 
paddles flashed and fell. There was a thud as the 
blades struck the water, and the long, light hull forged 
onward with slightly lifted, bird’s-head prow, while 
the two men swung forward for the next stroke with 
a rhythmic grace of motion. They knelt, facing for¬ 
ward, in the bottom of the craft, and, dissimilar as 
they were in features and, to some extent, in character, 
the likeness between them was stronger than the dif¬ 
ference. Both bore the unmistakable stamp of a 
wholesome life spent in vigorous labor in the open. 
Their eyes were clear and, like those of most bushmen, 
singularly steady; their skin was clean and weather- 
darkened ; and they were leanly muscular. 

On either side of the lane of green water giant firs, 
cedars and balsams crept down the rocky hills to the 
whitened driftwood fringe. They formed part of the 


2 


VANE OF THE TIMBERLANDS 


great coniferous forest which rolls west from the wet 
Coast Range of Canada’s Pacific Province and, over¬ 
leaping the straits, spreads across the rugged and beau¬ 
tiful wilderness of Vancouver Island. Ahead, clusters 
of little frame houses showed up here and there in 
openings among the trees, and a small sloop, toward 
which the canoe was heading, lay anchored near the 
wharf. 

The men had plied the paddle during most of that 
day, from inclination rather than necessity, for they 
could have hired Siwash Indians to undertake the labor 
for them, had they been so minded. * They were, 
though their appearance did not suggest it, moderately 
prosperous; but their prosperity was of recent date; 
they had been accustomed to doing everything for 
themselves, as are most of the men who dwell among 
the woods and ranges of British Columbia. 

Vane, who knelt nearest the bow, was twenty-seven 
years of age. Nine of those years he had spent chop¬ 
ping trees, driving cattle, poling canoes and assisting 
in the search for useful minerals among the snow-clad 
ranges. He wore a wide, gray felt hat, which had 
lost its shape from frequent wettings, an old shirt of 
the same color, and blue duck trousers, rent in places; 
but the light attire revealed a fine muscular symmetry. 
He had brown hair and brown eyes; and a certain 
warmth of coloring which showed through the deep 
bronze of his skin hinted at a sanguine and somewhat 
impatient temperament. As a matter of fact, the 
man was resolute and usually shrewd; but there was a 
vein of impulsiveness in him, and, while he possessed 
considerable powers of endurance, he was on occasion 
troubled by a shortness of temper. 


A FRIEND IN NEED 


3 


His companion, Carroll, had lighter hair and gray 
eyes, and his appearance was a little less vigorous and 
a little more refined; though he, too, had toiled hard 
and borne many privations in the wilderness. / His 
dress resembled Vane’s, but, dilapidated as it was,,Jt 
suggested a greater fastidiousness. 

The two had located a valuable mineral property 
some months earlier and, though this does not invari¬ 
ably follow, had held their own against city financiers 
during the negotiations that preceded the floating of a 
company to work the mine. That they had succeeded 
in securing a good deal of the stock was largely due to 
Vane’s pertinacity and said something for his acumen; 
but both had been trained in a very hard school. 

As the wooden houses ahead rose higher and the 
sloop’s gray hull grew into sharper shape upon the 
clear green shining of the brine. Vane broke into a 
snatch of song: 

“ Had I the wings of a dove, I would fly- 
just for to-night to the Old Country.” 

He stopped and laughed. 

“ It’s nine years since I’ve seen it, but I can’t get 
those lines out of my head. Perhaps it’s because of 
the girl whorsang them. Somehow, I felt sorry for 
her. She had remarkably fine eyes.” 

“ Sea-blue,” suggested his companion. “ I don’t 
grasp the connection between the last two remarks.” 

‘‘ Neither do I,” admitted Vane. “ I suppose there 
isn’t one. But they weren’t sea-blue; unless you mean 
the depth of indigo when you are out of soundings. 
They’re Irish eyes.” 

“ You’re not Irish? There’s not a trace of the Celt 


4 


VANE OF THE TIMBERLANDS 


in you, except, perhaps, your habit of getting indignant 
with the people who don’t share your views.” 

'‘No, sir! By birth. I’m North Country — Eng¬ 
land, I mean. Over there we’re descendants of the 
Saxons, Scandinavians, Danes — Teutonic stock at 
bottom, anyhow; and we’ve inherited their unromantic 
virtues. We’re solid, and cautious, respectable before 
everything, and smart at getting hold of anything 
worth having. As a matter of fact, you Ontario Scots¬ 
men are mighty like us.” 

" You certainly came out well ahead of those city 
men who put up the money,” agreed Carroll. " I 
guess it’s in the blood; though I fancied once or twice 
that they would take the mine from you.” 

Vane brought his paddle down with a thud. 

“Just for to-night to the Old Country,—” 

he hummed, and added: 

" It sticks to one.” 

" What made you leave the Old Country ? I don’t 
think you ever told me.” 

Vane laughed. 

" That’s a blamed injudicious question to ask any¬ 
body, as you ought to know; but in this particular in¬ 
stance you shall have an answer. There was a row 
at home — I was a sentimentalist then, and just eight¬ 
een— and as a result of it I came out to Canada.” 
His voice changed and grew softer. " I hadn’t many 
relatives, and, except one sister, they’re all gone now. 
That reminds me — she’s not going to lecture for the 
county education authorities any longer.” 

The sloop was close ahead, and slackening the pad- 


A FRIEND IN NEED 


S 

dling they ran alongside. Vane glanced at his watch 
when they had climbed on board. 

“ Supper will be finished at the hotel,” he remarked. 

You had better get the stove lighted. It’s your turn, 
and that rascally Siwash seems to have gone off again. 
It he’s not back when we’re ready, we’ll sail without 
him.” 

Supper is served at the hotels in the western settle¬ 
ments as soon as work ceases for the day, and the 
man who arrives after it is over must wait until the 
next day’s breakfast is ready. Carroll, accordingly, 
prepared the meal; and when they had finished it they 
lay on deck smoking with a content not altogether ac¬ 
counted for by a satisfied appetite. They had spent 
several anxious months, during which they had come 
very near the end of their slender resources, arranging 
for the exploitation of the mine, and now at last the 
work was over. Vane had that day made his final 
plans for the construction of a road and a wharf by 
which the ore could be economically shipped for reduc¬ 
tion, or, as an alternative to this, for the erection of a 
small smelting plant. They had bought the sloop as a 
convenient means of conveyance and shelter, as they 
could live in some comfort on board; and now they 
could take their ease for a while, which was a very 
unusual thing to both of them. 

** I suppose you’re bent on sailing this craft back? ” 
Carroll remarked at length. “ We could hire a couple 
of Siwash to take her home while we rode across the 
island and got the train to Victoria. Besides, there’s 
that steamboat coming down the coast to-night.” 

Either way would cost a good deal extra.” 


6 VANE OF THE TIMBERLANDS 


That’s true,” Carroll agreed with an amused ex¬ 
pression ; but you could charge it to the company.” 

Vane laughed. 

“ You and I have a big stake in the concern; and I 
haven’t got used to spending money unnecessarily yet. 
I’ve been mighty glad to earn a couple dollars by work¬ 
ing from sunup until dark, though I didn’t always get 
it afterward. So have you.” 

How are you going to dispose of your money, 
then? You have a nice little balance in cash, besides 
the shares.” 

“ It has occurred to me that I might spend a few 
months in the Old Country. Have you ever been over 
there? ” 

“ I was across some time ago; but, if you like, I’ll 
go along with you. We could start as soon as we’ve 
arranged the few matters left open in Vancouver.” 

Vane was glad to hear it. He knew little about 
Carroll’s antecedents, but his companion was obviously 
a man of education, and they had been staunch com¬ 
rades for the last three years. They had plodded 
through leagues of rain-swept bush, had forded icy 
rivers, had slept in wet fern and sometimes slushy 
snow, and had toiled together with pick and drill. 
During that time they had learned to know and trust 
each other and to bear with each other’s idiosyncrasies. 

Filling his pipe again as he lay in the fading sun¬ 
light, Vane looked back on the nine years he had 
passed in Canada, and, allowing for the periods of ex¬ 
posure to cold and wet and the almost ceaseless toil, 
he admitted that he might have spent them more un¬ 
pleasantly. He had a stout heart and a muscular body, 
and the physical hardships had not troubled him. 


A FRIEND In need 


7 

What was more, he had a quick, almost instinctive, 
judgment and the faculty for seizing an oppor¬ 
tunity. 

Having quarreled with his relatives and declined any 
favors from them, he had come to Canada with only 
a few pounds and had promptly set about earning a 
living with his hands. When he had been in the coun¬ 
try several years, a friend of the family had, however, 
sent him a small sum, and the young man had made 
judicious use of the money. The lot he bought out¬ 
side a wooden town doubled in value, and the share 
he took in a new orchard paid him well; but he had 
held aloof from the cities, and his only recklessness 
had been his prospecting journeys into the wilderness. 
Prospecting for minerals is at once an art and a 
gamble. Skill, acquired by long experience or in¬ 
stinctive — and there are men who seem to possess the 
latter — counts for much, but chance plays a leading 
part. Provisions, tents and packhorses are expensive,- 
and though a placer mine may be worked by two part¬ 
ners, a reef or lode can be disposed of only to men 
with means sufficient to develop it. Even in this deli¬ 
cate matter, in which he had had keen wits against him. 
Vane had held his own; but there was one side of life 
with which he was practically unacquainted. 

There are no social amenities on the rangeside or in 
the bush, where women are scarce. Vane had lived 
in Spartan simplicity, practising the ascetic virtues; as 
a matter of course. He had had no time for senti¬ 
ment, his passions had remained unstirred; and now 
he was seven and twenty, sound and vigorous of body, 
and, as a rule, level of head. At length, however, 
there was to be a change. He had earned an inter- 


8 VANE OF THE TIMBERLANDS 


lude of leisure, and he meant to enjoy it without, so 
he prudently determined, making a fool of himself. 

Presently Carroll took his pipe from his mouth. 

“ Are you going ashore again to the show to¬ 
night?’’ 

‘‘ Yes,” Vane answered. '' It’s a long while since 
I’ve struck an entertainment of any kind, and that yel¬ 
low-haired mite’s dancing is one of the prettiest things 
I’ve seen.” 

'' You’ve been twice already,” Carroll hinted. The 
girl with the blue eyes sings her first song rather well.” 

“ I think so,” Vane agreed with a significant ab¬ 
sence of embarrassment. In this case a good deal 
depends on the singing — the interpretation, isn’t it? 
The thing’s on the border, and I’ve struck places where 
they’d have made it gross; but the girl only brought 
out the mischief. Strikes me she didn’t see there was 
anything else in it.” 

“ That’s curious, considering the crowd she goes 
about with. Aren’t you cultivating a critical fac¬ 
ulty?” 

Vane disregarded the ironical question. 

‘‘ She’s Irish; that accounts for a good deal.” 

He paused and looked thoughtful. 

“ If I knew how to do it. I’d like to give five or ten 
dollars to the child who dances. It must be a tough 
life, and her mother — the woman at the piano — 
looks ill. I wonder whatever brought them to a place 
like this?” 

Struck a cold streak at Nanaimo, the storekeeper 
told me. Anyway, since we’re to start at sunup. I’m 
staying here.” Then he smiled. “ Has it struck you 


A FRIEND IN NEED 


9 

that your attendance in the front seats is liable to mis¬ 
conception? ” 

Vane rose without answering and dropped into the 
canoe. Thrusting her off, he drove the light craft to¬ 
ward the wharf with vigorous strokes of the paddle, 
and Carroll shook his head whimsically as he watched 
him. 

“ Anybody except myself would conclude that he’s 
waking up at last,” he commented. 

A minute or two later Vane swung himself up on¬ 
to the wharf and strode into the wooden settlement. 
There were one or two hydraulic mines and a pulp mill 
in the vicinity, and, though the place was by no means 
populous, a company of third-rate entertainers had ar¬ 
rived there a few days earlier. On reaching the rude 
wooden building in which they had given their per¬ 
formance and finding it closed, he accosted a lounger. 

‘‘ What’s becopje of the show? ” he asked. 

“ Busted. Didn’t take the boys’ fancy. The crowd 
went out with the stage this afternoon; though I 
heard that two of the women stayed behind. Some¬ 
body said the hotel-keeper had trouble about his bill.” 

Vane turned away with a slight sense of compassion. 
More than once during his first year or two in Can¬ 
ada he had limped footsore and weary into a wooden 
town where nobody seemed willing to employ him. 
An experience of the kind was unpleasant to a vigor¬ 
ous man, but he reflected that it must be much more 
so in the case of a woman, who probably had nothing 
to fall back upon. However, he dismissed the matter 
from his mind. Having been kneeling in a cramped 
position in the canoe most of the day, he decided to 


lO VANE OF THE TIMBERLANDS 


stroll along the waterside before going back to the 
sloop. 

Great firs stretched out their somber branches over 
the smooth shingle, and now that the sun had gone 
their clean resinous smell was heavy in the dew-cooled 
air. Here and there brushwood grew among out¬ 
cropping rock and moss-grown logs lay fallen among 
the brambles. 

Catching sight of what looked like a strip of woven 
fabric beneath a brake, Vane strode toward it. Then 
he stopped with a start, for a young girl lay with her 
face hidden from him, in an attitude of dejected aban¬ 
donment. He was about to turn away softly, when 
she started and looked up at him. Her long dark 
lashes glistened and her eyes were wet, but they were 
of the deep blue he had described to Carroll, and he 
stood still. 

You really shouldn’t give way like that,” he said. 

It was all he could think of, but he spoke without 
obtrusive assurance or pronounced embarrassment; 
and the girl, shaking out her crumpled skirt over 
one little foot, with a swift sinuous movement, 
choked back a sob and favored him with a glance 
of keen scrutiny as she rose to a sitting posture. She 
was quick at reading character — the life she led 
had made that necessary — and his manner and ap¬ 
pearance were reassuring. He was on the whole 
a well-favored man — good-looking seemed the best 
word for it — though what impressed her most was 
his expression. It indicated that he regarded her 
with some pity, not as an attractive young woman, 
which she knew she was, but merely as a human 
being. The girl, however, said nothing; and, sit- 


A FRIEND IN NEED 


II 


ting down on a neighboring boulder, Vane took out 
his pipe from force of habit 

“ Well,” he added, in much the same tone he would 
have used to a distressed child, “ what’s the trouble ? ” 

She told him, speaking on impulse. 

‘‘ They’ve gone off and left me! The takings 
didn’t meet expenses; there was no treasury.” 

“ That’s bad,” responded Vane gravely. Do you 
mean they’ve left you alone?” 

‘‘ No; it’s worse than that. I suppose I could go 
— somewhere — but there’s Mrs. Marvin and Elsie.” 

‘‘ The child who dances ? ” 

The girl assented, and Vane looked thoughtful. 
He had already noticed that Mrs. Marvin, whom he 
supposed to be the child’s mother, was worn and 
frail, and he did not think there was anything she could 
turn her hand to in a vigorous mining community. 
The same applied to his companion, though he was 
not greatly astonished that she had taken him into 
her confidence. The reserve that characterizes the 
insular English is less common in the West, where 
the stranger is more readily taken on trust. 

“The three of you stick together?” he suggested. 

“Of course! Mrs. Marvin’s the only friend I 
have.” 

“ Then I suppose you’ve no idea what to do ? ” 

“ No,” she confessed, and then explained, not very 
clearly, that it was the cause of her distress and 
that they had had bad luck of late. Vane could 
understand that as he looked at her. Her dress was 
shabby, and he fancied that she had not been bounti¬ 
fully fed. 

“If you stayed here a few days you could go out 


12 VANE OF THE TIMBERLANDS 


with the next stage and take the train to Victoria.’’ 
He paused and continued diffidently: ‘‘ It could be 

arranged with the hotel-keeper.” 

She laughed in a half-hysterical manner, and he 
remembered what she had said about the treasury, 
and that fares are high in that country. 

‘‘ I suppose you have no money,” he added with 
blunt directness. “ I want you to tell Mrs. Marvin 
that I’ll lend her enough to take you all to Victoria.” 

Her face crimsoned. He had not quite expected 
that, and he suddenly felt embarrassed. It was a re¬ 
lief when she broke the brief silence. 

“No,” she replied; “I can’t do that. For one 
thing, it would be too late when we got to Victoria. 
I think we could get an engagement if we reached 
Vancouver in time to get to Kamloops by —” 

Vane knit his brows when he heard the date, and 
it was a moment or two before he spoke. 

“ There’s only one way you can do it. There’s 
a little steamboat coming down the coast to-night. 
I had half thought of intercepting her, anyway, and 
handing the skipper some letters to post in Victoria. 
He knows me — I’m likely to have dealings with 
his employers. That’s my sloop yonder, and if I 
put you on board the steamer, you’d reach Vancouver 
in good time. We should have sailed at sunup, any¬ 
how.” 

The girl hesitated and turned partly from him. 
He surmised that she did not know what to make of 
his offer, though her need was urgent. In the mean¬ 
while he stood up. 

“ Come along and talk it over with Mrs. Marvin,” 
he urged. “I’d better tell you that I’m Wallace 


A FRIEND IN NEED 


13 

Vane, of the Clermont Mine. Of course, I know 
your name, from the program.’' 

She rose and they walked back to the hotel. Once 
more it struck him that the girl was pretty and grace¬ 
ful, though he had already deduced from several things 
that she had not been regularly trained as a singer 
nor well educated. On reaching the hotel, he sat 
down on the veranda while she went in, and a few 
minutes later Mrs. Marvin came out and looked at 
him much as the girl had done. He grew hot under 
her gaze and repeated his offer in the curtest terms. 

‘‘If this breeze holds, we’ll put you on board the 
steamer soon after daybreak,” he explained. 

The woman’s face softened, and he recognized now 
that there had been strong suspicion in it. 

“ Thank you,” she said simply; “ we’ll come.” 

There was a moment’s silence and then she added 
with an eloquent gesture: 

“ You don’t know what it means to us! ” 

Vane merely took off his hat and turned away; but 
a minute or two later he met the hotel-keeper. 

“ Do these people owe you anything? ” he asked. 

“ Five dollars; they paid up part of the time. I 
was wondering what to do with them. Guess they’ve 
no money. They didn’t come in to supper, though 
we would have stood them that. Made me think they 
were straight folks; the other kind wouldn’t have been 
bashful.” 

Vane handed him a bill. 

“ Take it out of this, and make any excuse you like. 
I’m going to put them on board the steamboat.” 

The man made no comment, and Vane, striding 
down to the beach, sent a hail ringing across the 


14 VANE OF THE TIMBERLANDS 

water. Carroll appeared on the sloop’s deck and 
answered him. 

“ Hallo! ” he cried. ‘‘ What’s the trouble ? ” 

“ Get ready the best supper you can manage, for 
three people, as quick as you can! ” 

‘‘ Supper for three people! ” 

Vane caught the astonished exclamation and came 
near losing his temper. 

For three people! ” he shouted. Don’t ask 
any fool questions! You’ll see later on! ” 

Then he turned away in a hurry, wondering some¬ 
what uneasily what Carroll would say when he 
grasped the situation. 


CHAPTER II 


A BREEZE OF WIND 

T here were signs of a change in the weather 
when Vane walked down to the wharf with 
his passengers, for a cold wind which had sprung 
up struck an eery sighing from the somber firs and 
sent the white mists streaming along the hillside. 
There was a watery moon in the sky, and when they 
reached the water’s edge Vane fancied that the singer 
hesitated; but Mrs. Marvin laid her hand on the girl’s 
arm reassuringly, and she got into the canoe. A few 
minutes later Vane ran the craft alongside the sloop 
and saw the amazement in Carroll’s face by the glow 
from the cabin skylight. He fancied, however, that 
his comrade would rise to the occasion, and he helped 
his guests up. 

‘‘ My partner, Carroll. Mrs. Marvin and her 
daughter; Miss Kitty Blake. You have seen them 
already. They’re coming down with us to catch the 
steamer.” 

Carroll bowed, and Vane thrust back the cabin 
slide and motioned the others below. The place was 
brightly lighted by a nickeled lamp, though it was 
scarcely four feet high and the centerboard trunk oc¬ 
cupied the middle of it. A wide cushioned locker ran 
along either side a foot above the floor, and a swing- 
table, fixed above the trunk, filled up most of the 

15 


i6 VANE OF THE TIMBERLANDS 


space between. There was no cloth on the table, but 
it was invitingly laid out with canned fruit, coffee, 
hot flapjacks and a big lake trout, for in the western 
bush most men can cook. 

You must help yourselves while we get sail upon 
the boat,’’ said Vane cheerily. “ The saloon’s at 
your disposal — my partner and I have the forecastle. 
You will notice that there are blankets yonder, and 
as we’ll have smooth water most of the way you 
should get some sleep. Perhaps you’d better keep 
the stove burning; and if you should like some coffee 
in the early morning you’ll find it in the top locker.” 

He withdrew, closing the slide, and went forward 
with Carroll to shorten in the cable; but when they 
stopped beside the bitts his companion broke into a 
laugh. 

“Is there anything amusing you?” Vane asked 
curtly. 

“ Well,” drawled Carroll, “ this country, of course, 
isn’t England; but, for all that, it’s desirable that a 
man who expects to make his mark in it should exer¬ 
cise a certain amount of caution. It strikes me that 
you’re making a rather unconventional use of your 
new prosperity, and it might be prudent to consider 
how some of your friends in Vancouver may regard 
the adventure.” 

Vane sat down upon the bitts and took out his pipe. 

“One trouble in talking to you is that I never 
know whether you’re in earnest or not. You trot 
out your cold-blooded worldly wisdom — I suppose 
it is wisdom — and then you grin at it.” 

“ It seems to me that’s the only philosophic atti¬ 
tude,” Carroll replied. “ It’s possible to grow furi- 


A BREEZE OF WIND 


17 


ously indignant with the restraints stereotyped people 
lay on one, but on the whole it’s wiser to bow to 
them and chuckle. After all, they’ve some founda¬ 
tion.” 

Vane looked up at him sharply. 

“ You’ve been right in the advice you have given 
me more than once. You seem to know how pros¬ 
perous, and what you call stereotyped, people look 
at things. But you’ve never explained where you 
acquired the knowledge.” 

Oh, that’s quite another matter,” laughed Carroll. 

Anyway, there’s one remark of yours I’d like to 
answer. You would, no doubt, consider that I made 
a legitimate use of my money when I entertained 
that crowd of city people — some of whom would 
have plundered me if they could have managed it 
— in Vancouver. I didn’t grudge it, of course, but 
I was a little astonished when I saw the wine and 
cigar bill. It struck me that the best of them 
scarcely noticed what they got — I think they’d been 
up against it at one time, as we have; and it would 
have done the rest of the guzzlers good if they’d 
had to work with the shovel all day on pork and 
flapjacks. But we’ll let that go. What have you and 
I done that we should swill in champagne, while a 
girl with a face like that one below and a child who 
dances like a fairy haven’t enough to eat? You know 
what I paid for the last cigars. What confounded 
hogs we are! ” 

Carroll laughed outright. There was not an 
ounce of superfluous flesh upon his comrade, who 
was hardened’ and toughened by determined labor. 
With rare exceptions, which included the occa- 


i8 VANE OF THE TIMBERLANDS 


sions when he had entertained or had been en¬ 
tertained in Vancouver, his greatest indulgence had 
been a draught of strong green tea from a blackened 
pannikin, though he had at times drunk nothing but 
river water. The term hog appeared singularly in¬ 
appropriate as applied to him. 

“ Well,” replied Carroll, you’ll no doubt get used 
to the new conditions by and by; and in regard to 
your latest exploit, there’s a motto on your insignia 
of the Garter which might meet the case. But 
hadn’t we better heave her over her anchor ? ” 

They seized the chain, and a sharp, musical rattle 
rang out as it ran below, for the hollow hull flung 
back the metallic clinking like a sounding-board. 
When the cable was short-up, they grasped the 
halyards and the big gaff-mainsail rose flapping up 
the mast. They set it and turned to the head-sails, 
for though, strictly speaking, a sloop carries only 
one, the term is loosely applied in places, and as Vane 
had changed her rig, there were two of them to be 
hoisted. 

“ It’s a fair wind, and I dare say we’ll find more 
weight in it lower down,” commented Carroll. 
‘‘ We’ll let the staysail lie and run her with the jib.” 

When they set the jib and broke out the anchor. 
Vane took the helm, and the sloop, slanting over 
until her deck on one side dipped close to the froth¬ 
ing brine, drove away into the darkness. The lights 
of the settlement faded among the trees, and the 
black hills and the climbing firs on either side slipped 
by, streaked by sliding vapors. A crisp, splashing 
sound made by the curling ripples followed the ves¬ 
sel; the canoe surged along noisily astern; and the 


A BREEZE OF WIND 


19 


frothing and gurgling grew louder at the bows. 
They were running down one of the deep, forest- 
shrouded inlets which, resembling the Norwegian 
fiords, pierce the Pacific littoral of Canada; though 
there are no Scandinavian pines to compare with the 
tremendous conifers which fill all the valleys and 
climb high to the snow-line in that wild and rugged 
land. 

There was no sound from the cabin, and Vane 
decided that his guests had gone to sleep. The 
sloop was driving along steadily, with neither lift nor 
roll, but when, increasing her speed, she piled the foam 
up on her lee side and the canoe rode on a great white 
wave, he glanced toward his companion. 

‘‘ I wonder how the wind is outside ? ’’ he ques¬ 
tioned. 

Carroll looked around and saw the white mists 
stream athwart the pines on a promontory they were 
skirting. 

‘‘ That’s more than I can tell. In these troughs 
among the hills, it either blows straight up or directly 
down, and I dare say we’ll find it different when we 
reach the sound. One thing’s certain — there’s some 
weight in it now.” 

Vane nodded agreement, though an idea that 
troubled him crept into his mind. 

I understand that the steamboat skipper will run 
in to land some Siwash he’s bringing down. It will 
be awkward in the dark if the wind’s on-shore.” 

Carroll made no comment, and they drove on. 
As they swept around the point, the sloop, slanting 
sharply, dipped her lee rail in the froth. Ahead of 
them the inlet was flecked with white, and the wail 


20 


VANE OF THE TIMBERLANDS 


of the swaying firs came off from the shadowy beach 
and mingled with the gurgling of the water. 

We’ll have to tie down a reef and get the canoe 
on board,” suggested Carroll. 

Here, take the tiller a minute! ” 

Scrambling forward Vane rapped on the cabin 
slide and then flung it back. Mrs. Marvin lay upon 
the leeward locker with a blanket thrown over her 
and with the little girl at her feet; Miss Blake sat 
on the weather side with a book in her hand. 

We’re going to take some sail off the boat,” 
he explained. You needn’t be disturbed by the 
noise.” 

When do you expect to meet the steamer ? ” Miss 
Blake inquired. 

‘‘ Not for two or three hours, anyway.” 

Vane fancied that the girl noticed the hint of un¬ 
certainty in his voice, and he banged the slide to as he 
disappeared. 

Down helm! ” he shouted to Carroll. 

There was a banging and thrashing of canvas as 
the sloop came up into the wind. They held her 
there with the jib aback while they hauled the canoe 
on board, which was not an easy task; and then with 
difficulty they hove down a reef in the mainsail. It 
was heavy work, because there was nobody at the 
helm; and the craft, falling off once or twice while 
they leaned out upon the boom with toes on her de¬ 
pressed lee rail, threatened to hurl them into the 
frothing water. Neither of them was a trained 
sailor; but on that coast, with its inlets and sounds 
and rivers, the wanderer learns readily to handle sail 
and paddle and canoe-pole. 


A BREEZE OF WIND 


21 


They finished their task; and when Vane seized the 
helm Carroll sat down under the shelter of the coam¬ 
ing, out of the flying spray. 

We’ll probably have some trouble putting your 
friends on board the steamer, even if she runs in,” 
he remarked. “ What are you going to do if there’s 
no sign of her? ” 

It’s a question I’ve been shirking for the last 
half-hour,” Vane confessed. 

“ It would be very slow work beating back up this 
inlet; and even if we did so there isn’t a stage across 
the island for several days. No doubt, you remember 
that you have to see that contractor on Thursday; 
and there’s the directors’ meeting, too.” 

“ It’s uncommonly awkward,” Vane answered 
dubiously. 

Carroll laughed. 

It strikes me that your guests will have to stay 
where they are, whether they like it or not; but 
there’s one consolation — if this wind is from the 
northwest, which is most likely, it will be a fast run 
to Victoria. Guess I’ll try to get some sleep.” 

He disappeared down a scuttle forward, leaving 
Vane somewhat disturbed in mind. He had con¬ 
templated taking his guests for merely a few hours’ 
run, but to have them on board for, perhaps, several 
days was a very different thing. Besides, he was 
far from sure that they would understand the neces¬ 
sity for keeping them, and in that case the situation 
might become difficult. In the meanwhile, the 
sloop drove on, until at last, toward morning, the 
beach fell back on either hand and she met the long 
swell tumbling in from the Pacific. The wind was 


22 VANE OF THE TIMBERLANDS 


from the northwest and blowing moderately hard; 
there was no light as yet in the sky above the black 
heights to the east; and the onrushing swell grew 
higher and steeper, breaking white here and there. 
The sloop plunged over it wildly, hurling the spray 
aloft; and it cost Vane a determined effort to haul 
in his sheets as the wind drew ahead. Shortly after¬ 
ward, the beach faded altogether on one hand, and 
the sea piled up madly into foaming ridges. It 
seemed most improbable that the steamer would run 
in to land her Indian passengers, but Vane drove 
the sloop on, with showers of stinging brine beating 
into her wet canvas and whirling about him. 

As the Pacific opened up, he found it necessary to 
watch the seas that came charging down upon her. 
They were long and high, and most of them were 
ridged with seething foam. With a quick pull on 
the tiller, he edged her over them, and a cascade 
swept her forward as she plunged across their crests. 
Though there were driving clouds above him, it was 
not very dark and he could see for some distance. 
The long ranks of tumbling combers did not look 
encouraging, and when the plunges grew sharper and 
the brine began to splash across the coaming that pro¬ 
tected the well he wished that they had hauled down 
a second reef. He could not shorten sail unassisted, 
however; nor could he leave the helm to summon Car- 
roll, who was evidently sleeping soundly in the fore¬ 
castle, without rousing his passengers, which he did 
not desire to do. 

A little while later he noticed that a stream of 
smoke was pouring from the short funnel of the stove 
and soon afterward the cabin slide opened. Miss 


A BREEZE OF WIND 


23 

Blake crept out and stood in the well, gazing forward 
while she clutched the coaming. 

Day was now breaking, and Vane could see that 
the girl’s thin dress was blown flat against her. 
There was something graceful in her pose, and it 
struck him again that her figure was daintily slender. 
She wore no hat, and it was evident that the wild 
plunging had no effect on her. He waited uneasily 
until she turned and faced him. 

We are going out to sea,” she said. ‘‘ Where’s 
the steamer ? ” 

It was a question Vane had dreaded; but he an¬ 
swered it honestly. 

I can’t tell you. It’s very likely that she has 
gone straight on to Victoria.” 

He saw the suspicion in her suddenly hardening 
face, but the quick anger in it pleased him. He had 
not expected her to be prudish, but it was clear that 
the situation did not appeal to her. 

‘‘ You expected this when you asked us to come 
on board! ” she cried. 

“No,” Vane replied quietly; “on my honor, I did 
nothing of the kind. There was only a moderate 
breeze when we left, and when it freshened enough 
to make it unlikely that the steamer would run in, 
I was as vexed as you seem to be. As it happened, 
I couldn’t go back; I must get on to Victoria as soon 
as possible.” 

She looked at him searchingly, but he fancied that 
she was slightly comforted. 

“ Can’t you put us ashore ? ” 

“ It might be possible if I could find a sheltered 
beach farther on, but it wouldn’t be wise. You 


24 VANE OF THE TIMBERLANDS 

would find yourselves twenty or thirty miles from the 
nearest settlement, and you could never walk so far 
through the bush.” 

“ Then what are we to do? ” 

There was distress in the cry, and Vane answered 
it in his most matter-of-fact tone. 

So far as I can see, you can only reconcile your¬ 
selves to staying on board. We’ll have a fresh, fair 
wind for Victoria, once we’re round the next head, 
and with moderate luck we ought to get there late 
to-night.” 

“You’re sure?” 

Vane felt sorry for her. 

“ I’m afraid I can’t even promise that; it depends 
upon the weather,” he replied. “ But you mustn’t 
stand there in the spray. You’re getting wet 
through.” 

She still clung to the coaming, but he fancied 
that her misgivings were vanishing, and he spoke 
again. 

“ How are Mrs. Marvin and the little girl ? I see 
you have lighted the stove.” 

The girl sat down, shivering, in the partial shelter 
of the coaming, and at last a gleam of amusement, 
which he felt was partly compassionate, shone in her 
eyes. 

“ I’m afraid they’re — not well. That was why 
I kept the stove burning; I wanted to make them some 
tea. There is some in the locker — I thought you 
wouldn’t mind.” 

“ Everything’s at your service, as I told you. You 
must make the best breakfast you can. The nicest 
things are at the back of the locker.” 


A BREEZE OF WIND 


25 


She stood up, looking around again. The light 
was growing, and the crests of the combers gleamed 
a livid white. Their steep breasts were losing their 
grayness and changing to dusky blue and slatey 
green, but their blurred coloring was atoned for by 
their grandeur of form. They came on, ridge on 
ridge, in regularly ordered, tumbling phalanxes. 

‘‘ It’s glorious! ” she exclaimed, to his astonish¬ 
ment. ‘‘ Aren’t you carrying a good deal of sail? ” 

“ We’ll ease the peak down when we bring the wind 
farther aft. In the meanwhile, you’d better get your 
breakfast, and if you come out again, put on one of 
the coats you’ll find below.” 

She disappeared, and Vane felt relieved. Though 
the explanation had proved less difficult than he had an¬ 
ticipated, he was glad that it was over, and the way 
in which she had changed the subject implied that 
she was satisfied with it. Half an hour later, she 
appeared again, carrying a loaded tray, and he won¬ 
dered at the ease of her movements, for the sloop 
was plunging viciously. 

‘‘ I’ve brought you some breakfast. You have 
been up all night.” 

Vane laughed. 

As I can take only one hand from the helm, you 
will have to cut up the bread and canned stuff for me. 
Draw out that box and sit down beneath the coam¬ 
ing, if you mean to stay.” 

She did as he told her. The well was about four 
feet long, and the bottom of it about half that dis¬ 
tance below the level of the deck. As a result of 
this, she sat close at his feet, while he balanced him¬ 
self on the coaming, gripping the tiller. He no- 


26 VANE OF THE TIMBERLANDS 


ticed that she had brought out an oilskin jacket with 
her. 

Hadn’t you better put this on first ? There^s a 
good deal of spray,” she said. 

Vane struggled into the jacket with some difficulty, 
and she smiled as she handed him up a slice of bread 
and canned meat. 

“ I suppose you can manage only one piece at a 
time,” she laughed. 

‘‘ Thank you. That’s about as much as you could 
expect one to be capable of, even allowing for the 
bushman’s appetite. I’m a little surprised to see you 
looking so fresh.” 

“ Oh, I used to go out with the mackerel boats 
at home — we lived at the ferry. It was a mile 
across the lough, and with the wind westerly the sea 
worked in.” 

“ The lough ? I told Carroll that you were from 
the Green Isle.” 

It struck him that this was, perhaps, imprudent, as 
it implied that they had been discussing her; but, on 
the other hand, he fancied that the candor of the 
statement was in his favor. 

Have you been long out here? ” he added. 

The girl’s face grew wistful. 

'‘Four years. I came out with Larry — he’s my 
brother. He was a forester at home, and he took 
small contracts for clearing land. Then he married 
— and I left him.” 

Vane made a sign of comprehension. 

" I see. Where’s Larry now ? ” 

" He went to Oregon. There was no answer to 
my last letter; I’ve lost sight of him.” 


A BREEZE OF WIND 


27 

“And you go about with Mrs. Marvin? Is her 
husband living?” 

Sudden anger flared up in the girl’s blue eyes, though 
he knew that it was not directed against him. 

“ Yes! It’s a pity he is! Men of his kind always 
seem to live! ” 

It occurred to Vane that Miss Blake, who evi¬ 
dently had a spice of temper, could be a staunch par- 
tizan, and he also noticed that now that he had in¬ 
spired her with some degree of trust in himself her 
conversation was marked by an ingenuous candor. 

“ Another piece, or some tea? ” she asked. 

“ Tea first, please.” 

They both laughed when she handed him a second 
slice of bread. 

“ These sandwiches strike me as unusually nice,” 
he informed her. “ It’s exceptionally good tea, too. 
I don’t remember ever getting anything to equal them 
at a hotel.” 

The blue eyes gleamed with amusement. 

“ You have been in the cold all night — but I was 
once in a restaurant.” She watched the effect of 
this statement on him. “ You know I really can’t 
sing — I was never taught, anyway — though there 
were some of the settlements where we did rather 
well.” 

Vane hummed a few bars of a song. 

“ I don’t suppose you realize what one ballad of 
yours has done. I’d almost forgotten the Old 
Country, but the night I heard you I felt I must go 
back and see it again. What’s more, Carroll and 
I are going shortly — it’s your doing.” 

This was a matter of fact; but Kitty Blake had 


28 VANE OF THE TIMBERLANDS 


produced a deeper effect on him, although he was not 
yet aware of it. 

“ It’s a shame to keep you handing me things to 
eat,” he added disconnectedly. Still, I’d like an¬ 
other piece.” 

She smiled delightfully as she passed the food to 
him. 

‘‘ You can’t help yourself and steer the boat. Be¬ 
sides — after the restaurant — I don’t mind waiting 
on you.” 

Vane made no comment, but he watched her with 
satisfaction while he ate. There was no sign of the 
others; they were alone on the waste of tumbling 
water in the early dawn. The girl was pretty, and 
there was a pleasing daintiness about her. What 
was more, she was a guest of his, dependent for her 
safety upon his skill with the tiller. So far as he 
could remember, it was a year or two since he had 
breakfasted in a woman’s company; it was certain 
that no woman had waited on him so prettily. Then 
as he remembered many a lonely camp in the dark 
pine forest or high on the bare rangeside, it oc¬ 
curred to him for the first time that he had missed 
a good deal of what life had to offer. He wondered 
what it would have been like if when he had dragged 
himself back to his tent at night, worn with heavy 
toil, as he had often done, there had been somebody 
with blue eyes and a delightful smile to welcome him. 

Kitty Blake belonged to the people — there was 
no doubt of that; but then he had a strong faith in 
the people, native-born and adopted, of the Pacific 
Slope. It was from them that he had received the 
greatest kindnesses he could remember. They were 


A BREEZE OF WIND 


29 


cheerful optimists; indomitable grapplers with for¬ 
est and flood, who did almost incredible things with 
ax and saw and giant-powder. They lived in lonely 
ranch houses, tents and rudely flung-up shacks; driv¬ 
ing the new roads along the rangeside or risking 
life and limb in wild-cat adits. They were quick to 
laughter, and reckless in hospitality. 

Then with an effort he brushed the hazy thoughts 
away. Kitty Blake was merely a guest of his; in 
another day he would land her in Victoria, and that 
would be the end of it. He was assuring himself 
of this when Carroll crawled up through the scuttle 
forward and came aft to join them. In spite of his 
prudent reflections. Vane was by no means certain 
that he was pleased to see him. 


CHAPTER III 


/■v.f 


AN AFTERNOON ASHORE 


H alf the day had slipped by. The breeze 
freshened further and the sun broke through. 
The sloop was then rolling wildly as she drove along 
with the peak of her mainsail lowered down before 
a big following sea. The combers came up behind 
her, foaming and glistening blue and green, with 
seamy white streaks on their hollow breasts, and 
broke about her with a roar. Then they surged ahead 
while she sank down into the hollow with sluicing 
deck and tilted stern. Vane’s face was intent as he 
gripped the helm; three or four miles away a head 
ran out from the beach he was following, and he 
would have to haul the boat up to windward to get ^ 
around it. This would bring the combers upon her 
quarter, or, worse still, abeam. Kitty Blake was 
below; and Mrs. Marvin had made no appearance 
yet. Vane looked at Carroll, who was standing in 
the well. 

“ The sea’s breaking more sharply, and we’d get 
uncommonly wet before we hammered round yonder 
head. There’s an inlet on this side of it where we 
ought to find good shelter.” 

“ The trouble is that if you stay there long you’ll 
be too late for the directors’ meeting. Besides, I’m 
under the impression that I’ve seen you run an open 
sea-canoe before as hard a breeze as this.” 





30 


AN AFTERNOON ASHORE 


31 


They can’t have the meeting without me, and if 
it’s necessary they can wait,” Vane answered im¬ 
patiently. “ I’ve had to. Many an hour I’ve spent 
cooling my heels in corridors and outer offices before 
the head of the concern could find time to attend to 
me. No doubt it was part of the game, done to 
impress me with a due sense of my unimportance.” 

“ It’s possible,” Carroll laughed. 

“ Besides, you can drive one of those big Siwash 
craft as hard as you can this sloop; that is, so long as 
you keep the sea astern of her.” 

‘‘Yes; I dare say you can. After all, you hadn’t 
any passengers on the occasion I was referring to. 
I suppose you feel you have to consider them ? ” 

Vane colored slightly. 

“ Naturally, I’d prefer not to land Mrs. Marvin 
and the child in a helpless condition; and I under¬ 
stand they’re feeling the motion pretty badly.” 

Kitty Blake made her appearance in the cabin 
entrance, and Vane smiled at her. 

“ We’re going to give you a rest,” he announced. 
“ There’s an inlet close ahead where we should find 
smooth water, and we’ll put you all ashore for a few 
hours until the wind drops.” 

There was no suspicion in the girl’s face now. 
She gave him a grateful glance before she disap¬ 
peared below with the consoling news. 

A quarter of an hour later Vane closed with the 
beach, and a break in the hillside, which was dotted 
with wind-'stunted pines, opened up. While the 
two men struggled with the mainsheet, the big boom 
and the sail above it lurched madly over. The sloop 
rolled down until half her deck on one side was 


32 VANE OF THE TIMBERLANDS 

in the sea, but she hove herself up again and shot 
forward, wet and gleaming, into a space of smooth 
green water behind a head. Soon afterward, Vane 
luffed into a tiny bay, where she rode upright in 
the sunshine, with loose canvas flapping softly in a 
faint breeze while the cable rattled down. They got 
the canoe over, and when they had helped Mrs. 
Marvin and her little girl, both of whom looked very 
wobegone and the worse for the voyage, into her. 
Vane glanced around. 

“ Isn’t Miss Blake coming? ” he asked. 

She’s changing her dress,” explained Mrs. Marvin, 
with a smile. She glanced at her own crumpled 
attire as she added: “ I’m past thinking of such 

things as that! ” 

They waited some minutes, and then Kitty ap¬ 
peared in the entrance to the cabin. Vane called to 
her. 

“ Won’t you look in the locker, and bring along 
anything you think would be nice? We’ll make a 
fire and have supper on the beach — if it isn’t first- 
rate, you’ll be responsible! ” 

A few minutes later they paddled ashore, and Vane 
landed them on a strip of shingle. Beyond it a wall 
of rock arose, with dark firs clinging in the rifts and 
crannies. The sunshine streamed into the hollow; the 
wind was cut off; and not far away a crystal stream 
came splashing down a ravine. 

There’s a creek at the top of the inlet,” Vane 
told them, as he and Carroll thrust out the canoe, 
“ and we’re going to look for a trout. You can stroll 
about or rest in the sun for a couple of hours, and 


AN AFTERNOON ASHORE 


33 

if the wind drops after supper we’ll make a start 
again.” 

They paddled away, with a fishing-rod and a gun 
in the canoe, and it was toward six o’clock in the 
evening when they came back with a few trout 
Vane made a fire of resinous wood, and Carroll and 
Kitty prepared a bountiful supper. When it was 
finished, Carroll carried the plates away to the 
stream; Mrs. Marvin and the little girl followed him; 
and Vane and Kitty were left beside the fire. She 
sat on a log of driftwood, and he lay on the warm 
shingle with his pipe in his hand. The clear green 
water splashed and tinkled upon the pebbles close at 
his feet, and a faint, elfin sighing fell from the 
firs above them. It was very old music: the song 
of the primeval wilderness; and though he had heard 
it often, it had a strange, unsettling effect on him 
as he languidly watched his companion. There was 
no doubt that she was pleasant to look upon; but, 
although he did not clearly recognize this, it was 
to a large extent an impersonal interest that he took 
in her. She was not so much an attractive young 
woman with qualities that pleased him as a type 
of something that had so far not come into his life; 
something which he vaguely felt that he had missed. 
One could have fancied that by some deep-sunk in¬ 
tuition she recognized this fact, and felt the security 
of it. 

So you believe you can get an engagement if you 
reach Vancouver in time? ” he asked at length. 

“ Yes.” 

‘‘ How long will it last? ” 


34 VANE OF THE TIMBERLANDS 

'' I can’t tell. Perhaps a week or two. It de¬ 
pends upon how the boys are pleased with the show.” 

Vane frowned. He felt very compassionate 
toward her and toward all friendless women com¬ 
pelled to wander here and there, as she was forced 
to do. It seemed intolerable that she should depend 
for daily bread upon the manner in which a crowd of 
rude miners and choppers received her song; though 
there was, as he knew, a vein of primitive chivalry in 
most of them. 

'' Suppose it only lasts a fortnight, what will you 
do then? ” 

“ I don’t know,” said Kitty simply. 

“ It must be a hard life,” Vane broke out. “ You 
must make very little — scarcely enough, I suppose, 
to carry you on from one engagement to another. 
After all, weren’t you as well off at the restaurant? 
Didn’t they treat you properly? ” 

She colored a little at the question. 

Oh, yes. At least, I had no fault to find with 
the man who kept it or with his wife.” 

Vane made a hasty sign of comprehension. He 
supposed that the difficulty had arisen from the con¬ 
duct of one or more of the regular customers. He 
felt that he would very much like to meet the man 
whose undesired attentions had driven his companion 
from her occupation. 

Did you never try to learn keeping accounts or 
typewriting?” he asked. 

‘‘ I tried it once. I could manage the figures, but 
the mill shut down.” 

Vane made his next suggestion casually, though 
he was troubled by an inward diffidence. 


AN AFTERNOON ASHORE 


35 


I’ve an idea that I could find you a post. It 
looks as if I’m going to be a person of some little 
influence in the future, which ”— he laughed — ‘‘ is 
a very new thing to me.” 

He saw a tinge of warmer color creep into the 
girl’s cheeks. She had, as he had already noticed a 
beautifully clear skin. 

“.No,” she said decidedly; “ it wouldn’t do.” 

Vane knit his brows, though he fancied that she 
was right. 

“ Well,” he replied, “ I don’t want to be officious — 
but how can I help? ” 

“ You can’t help at all.” 

Vane saw that she meant it, and he broke out with 
quick impatience: 

“ I’ve spent nine years in this country, in the 
hardest kind of work; but all the while I fancied 
that money meant power, that if I ever got enough 
of it I could do what I liked! Now I find that I 
can’t do the first simple thing that would please me! 
What a cramped, hide-bound world it is! ” 

Kitty smiled in a curious manner. 

“ Yes; it’s a very cramped world to some of us; 
but complaining won’t do any good.” She paused 
with a faint sigh. “ Don’t spoil this evening. You 
and Mr. Carroll have been very kind. It’s so quiet 
and calm here — though it was pleasant on board 
the yacht — and soon we’ll have to go to work again.” 

Vane once more was stirred by a sense of pity which 
almost drove him to rash and impulsive speech; but 
her manner restrained him. 

“ Then you must be fond of the sea,” he suggested. 

“ I love it I I was born beside it — where the big. 


36 VANE OF THE TIMBERLANDS 

green hills drop to the head of the water and you 
can hear the Atlantic rumble on the rocks all night 
long." 

'‘Ah!" exclaimed Vane; “don’t you long for 
another sight of it now and then? " 

The girl smiled in a way that troubled him. 

“ I’m wearying for it always; and some day, per¬ 
haps, I’ll win back for another glimpse at the old 
place." 

“ You wouldn’t go to stay? ’’ 

“ That would be impossible! What would I do 
yonder, after this other life? Once you leave the 
old land, you can never quite get back again." 

Vane lay smoking in silence for a minute or two. 
On another occasion he had felt the thrill of the 
exile’s longing that spoke through the girl’s song, 
and now he recognized the truth of what she said. 
One changed in the West, acquiring a new outlook 
which diverged more and more from that held by those 
at home. Only a wistful tenderness for the mother¬ 
land remained. Still, alien in thought and feeling 
as he had become, he was going back there for a time; 
and she, as she had said, must resume her work. A 
feeling of anger at his impotence to alter this came 
upon him. 

Then Carroll came up with Mrs. Marvin and Elsie, 
and he felt strongly stirred when the little girl walked 
up to him shyly with a basket filled with shells and 
bright fir-cones. He drew her down beside him with 
an arm about her waist while he examined her treas¬ 
ures. Glancing up he met Kitty’s eyes and felt his 
face grow hot with an emotion he failed to analyze. 
The little mite was frail and delicate; life, he sur- 


AN AFTERNOON ASHORE 


37 

mised, had scanty pleasure to offer her; but now she 
was happy. 

They’re so pretty, and there are such lots of 
them! ” she exclaimed. “ Can’t we stay here just a 
little longer and gather some more ? ” 

‘‘ Yes,” answered Vane, conscious that Carroll, who 
had heard the question, was watching him. “ You 
shall stay and get as many as you want. I’m afraid 
you don’t like the sloop.” 

‘‘ No; I don’t like it when it jumps. After I woke 
up, it jumped all the time.” 

“ Never mind, little girl. The boat will keep still 
to-night, and I don’t think there’ll be any waves to 
roll her about to-morrow. We’ll have you ashore 
the first thing in the morning.” 

He talked to her for a few minutes, and then strolled 
along the beach with Carroll until they could look 
out upon the Pacific. The breeze was falling, though 
the sea still ran high. 

“ Why did you promise that child to stay here ? ” 
Carroll asked. 

Because I felt like doing so.” 

“ I needn’t remind you that you’ve an appointment 
with Horsfield about the smelter; and there’s a meet¬ 
ing of the board next day. If we started now and 
caught the first steamer across, you wouldn’t have 
much time to spare.” 

“ That’s correct. I shall have to wire from Vic¬ 
toria that I’ve been detained.” 

Carroll laughed expressively. 

“ Do you mean to put off the meeting and keep your 
directors waiting, to please a child ? ” 

‘‘ I suppose that’s one reason. Anyway, I don’t 


38 VANE OF THE TIMBERLANDS 

propose to hustle the little girl and her mother on 
board the steamer while they’re helpless with sea¬ 
sickness.” A gleam of humor crept into his eyes. 
‘‘ As I think I told you, I’ve no great objections to 
letting the gentlemen you mentioned await my pleas¬ 
ure.” 

“ But they found you the shareholders, and set the 
concern on its feet.” 

‘"Just so. On the other hand, they got excellent 
value for their services — and I found the mine. 
What’s more, during the preliminary negotiations most 
of them treated me very casually.” 

Well?” 

“ There’s going to be a difference now. I’ve a board 
of directors — one way or another. I’ve had to pay 
for the privilege pretty dearly; but it’s not my in¬ 
tention that they should run the Clermont Mine.” 

Carroll glanced at him with open amusement. 
There had been a marked change in Vane since he 
had located the mine, though it was one that did not 
astonish his comrade. Carroll had long suspected him 
of latent capabilities, which had suddenly sprung to 
life. 

You ought to see Horsfield before you meet the 
board,” he advised him. 

“ I’m not sure,” Vane answered. In fact. I’m 
uncertain whether I’ll give Horsfield the contract, even 
if we decide about the smelter. He was offensively 
patronizing once upon a time and tried to bluff me. 
Besides, he has already a stake in the concern. I 
don’t want a man with too firm a hold-up against 
me.” 


AN AFTERNOON ASHORE 


39 

“ But if he put his money in partly with the idea 
of getting certain pickings ? ” 

‘‘ He didn’t explain his intentions; and I made no 
promises. He’ll get his dividends, or he can sell his 
stock at a premium, and that ought to satisfy him.” 

“If you submitted the whole case to a business 
man, he’d probably tell you that you were going to 
make a hash of things.” 

“That’s your own idea?” 

Carroll grinned. 

“ Oh, I’ll reserve my opinion. It’s possible you 
may be right. Time will show.” 

They rejoined the others, and when the white mists 
crept lower down from the heights above and the chill 
of the dew was in the air. Vane launched the canoe. 

“ It’s getting late and there’s a long run in front of 
us to-morrow,” he informed his passengers. “ The 
sloop will lie as still as if moored in a pond; and 
you’ll have her all to yourselves. Carroll and I are 
going to camp ashore.” 

He paddled them off to the boat. Coming back 
with some blankets, he cut a few armfuls of spruce 
twigs in a ravine and spread them out beside the 
fire. Then sitting down just clear of the scented 
smoke he lighted his pipe and asked an abrupt ques¬ 
tion. 

“ What do you think of Kitty Blake ? ” 

“ She’s attractive, in person and manners.” 

“ Anybody could see that at a glance! ” 

“ Well,” Carroll added cautiously, “ I must confess 
that I’ve taken some interest in the girl — partly be¬ 
cause you were obviously doing so. In a general 


40 VANE OF THE TIMBERLANDS 

way, what I noticed rather surprised me. It wasn’t 
what I expected.” 

“ You smart folks are as often wrong as the rest 
of us. I suppose you looked for cold-blooded as¬ 
surance, tempered by what one might call experienced 
coquetry ? ” 

“ Something of the kind,” Carroll agreed. As 
you say, I was wrong. There are only two ways of 
explaining Miss Blake, and the first’s the one that 
would strike most people. That is, she’s acting a part, 
possibly with an object; holding her natural self in 
check, and doing it cleverly.” 

Vane laughed scornfully. 

‘‘ I’ve lived in the woods for nine years, but I 
wouldn’t have entertained that idea for five seconds! ” 
Then, there’s the other explanation. It’s simply 
that the girl’s life hasn’t affected her. Somehow, she 
has kept fresh and wholesome. I think that’s the cor¬ 
rect view.” 

‘‘There’s no doubt of it! ” declared Vane. 

“ You offered to help her in some way ? ” 

“ I did; I don’t know how you guessed it. I said 
I’d find her a situation. She wouldn’t hear of it.” 

“ She was wise. Vancouver isn’t a very big place 
yet, and the girl has more sense than you have. What 
did you say ? ” 

“ I’m afraid I lost my temper because there was 
nothing I could do.” 

Carroll grinned. 

“ There are limitations — even to the power of the 
dollar. You’ll probably run up against more of them 
later on.” 


AN AFTERNOON ASHORE 


41 

‘‘ I suppose so,” yawned Vane. ‘‘ Well, Fm going 
to sleep.” 

He rolled himself up in his blanket and lay down 
among the soft spruce twigs, but Carroll sat still in 
the darkness and smoked out his pipe. Then he 
glanced at his comrade, who lay still, breathing evenly. 

“ No doubt you’d be considered fortunate,” he said, 
apostrophizing him half aloud. “ You’ve had power 
and responsibility thrust upon you. What will you 
make of it? ” 

Then he, too, lay down, and only the soft splash 
of the tiny ripples broke the silence while the fire sank 
lower. 

They sailed the next morning, and when they ar¬ 
rived in Victoria the boat which crossed the straits 
had gone, but the breeze was fair from the westward, 
and, after despatching a telegram. Vane sailed again. 
The sloop made a quick passage, and most of the time 
her passengers lounged in the sunshine on her gently 
slanted deck. It was evening when they ran through 
the Narrows into Vancouver’s land-locked harbor and 
saw the roofs of the city rise tier on tier from the 
water-front. Somber forest crept down to the skirts 
of it, and across the glistening water black hills ran 
up into the evening sky, with the blink of towering 
snow to the north of them. 

Half an hour later Vane landed his passengers, and 
it was not until he had left them that they discovered 
he had thrust a roll of paper currency into the little 
girl’s hand. Then he and Carroll set off for the C. 
P. R. hotel, although they were not accustomed to a 
hostelry of that sort. 


CHAPTER IV 


A CHANGE OF ENVIRONMENT 

O N the evening after his arrival in Vancouver, 
Vane paid a visit to one of his directors; and, 
in accordance with the invitation, he and Carroll 
reached the latter’s dwelling some little time before the 
arrival of several other guests, whose acquaintance 
it was considered advisable he should make. In the 
business parts of most western cities iron and stone 
have now replaced the native lumber, but on their 
outskirts wood is still employed with admirable effect 
as a building material, and Nairn’s house was an ex¬ 
ample of the judicious use of the latter. It stood 
on a rise above the inlet; picturesque in outline, with 
its artistic scroll-work, its wooden pillars, its lattice 
shutters and its balustraded verandas. Virgin forest 
crept up close about it, and there was no fence to the 
sweep of garden which divided it from the road. 

Vane and his companion were ushered into a small 
room, with an uncovered floor and simple, hardwood 
furniture. It was obviously a working room, for, as 
a rule, the work of the western business man goes 
on continuously except when he is asleep; but a some¬ 
what portly lady with a good-humored face reclined 
in a rocking chair. A gaunt, elderly man of rugged 
appearance rose from his seat at a writing-table as 
his guests entered. 


42 


A CHANGE OF ENVIRONMENT 43 

“ So ye have come at last,” he said. “ I had ye 
shown in here, because this room is mine, and I can 
smoke when I like. The rest of the house is Mrs. 
Nairn’s, and it seems that her friends do not appre¬ 
ciate the smell of my cigars. I’m no sure that I can 
blame them.” 

Mrs. Nairn smiled placidly. 

Alic,” she explained, “ leaves them lying every¬ 
where, and I do not like the stubs of them on the 
stairs. But sit ye down and he will give ye one.” 

Vane felt at home with both of them. He had 
met people of their kind before, and, allowing for 
certain idiosyncrasies, considered them the salt of the 
Dominion. Nairn had done good service to his adopted 
country, developing her industries — with some profit 
to himself, for he was of Scottish extraction; but, 
while close at a bargain, he could be generous after¬ 
ward. In the beginning, he had fought sternly for 
his own hand, and it was supposed that Mrs. Nairn 
had helped him, not only by sound advice, but by 
such practical economies as the making of his working 
clothes. Those he wore on the evening in question 
did not fit him well, though they were no longer the 
work of her capable fingers. When his guests were 
seated he laid two cigar boxes on the table. 

“ Those,” he said, pointing to one of them, are 
mine. I think ye had better try the others; they’re 
for visitors.” 

Vane had already noticed the aroma of the cigar 
that was smoldering on a tray and he decided that 
Nairn was right; so he dipped his hand into the sec¬ 
ond box, which he passed to Carroll. 

Now,” declared Nairn, we can talk comfortably. 


44 VANE OF THE TIMBERLANDS 

Clara will listen. Afterwards, it’s possible she will 
favor me with her opinion.” 

Mrs. Nairn smiled at them encouragingly, and her 
husband proceeded. 

‘‘ One or two of my colleagues were no pleased at 
ye for putting off the meeting.” 

The sloop was small, and it was blowing rather 
hard,” Vane explained. 

‘‘ Maybe. For all that, the tone of your message 
was no altogether what one would call conciliatory. 
It informed us that ye would arrange for the post¬ 
poned meeting at your earliest convenience. Ye did 
not mention ours.” 

I pointed that out to him, and he said it didn’t 
matter,” Carroll interrupted with a laugh. 

Nairn spread out his hands in expostulation, but 
there was dry appreciation in his eyes. 

‘‘ Young blood must have its way.” He paused and 
looked thoughtful. *‘Ye will no have said anything 
definite to Horsfield yet about the smelter ? ” 

No. So far. I’m not sure that it would pay us 
to put up the plant; and the other man’s terms are 
lower.” 

“ Maybe,” Nairn answered, and he made the single 
word very expressive. ‘‘Ye have had the handling of 
the thing; but henceforward it will be necessary to get 
the sanction of the board. However, ye will meet 
Horsfield to-night. We expect him and his sister.” 

Vane thought he had been favored with a hint, but 
he fancied also that his host was not inimical and was 
merely reserving his judgment with Caledonian cau¬ 
tion. Nairn changed the subject. 

“ So ye’re going to England for a holiday. Ye 


A CHANGE OF ENVIRONMENT 45 

will have friends who’ll be glad to see ye yonder ? ” 

‘‘ I’ve one sister, but no other near relatives. But 
I expect to spend some time with people you know. 
The Chisholms are old family friends, and, as you 
will remember, it was through them that I first ap¬ 
proached you.” 

Then, obeying one of the impulses which occasionally 
swayed him, he turned to Mrs. Nairn. 

“ I’m grateful to them for sending me the letter of 
introduction to your husband, because in many ways 
I’m in his debt. He didn’t treat me as the others did 
when I first went round this city with a few mineral 
specimens.” 

He had expected nothing when he spoke, but there 
was a responsive look in the lady’s face which hinted 
that he had made a friend. As a matter of fact, he 
owed a good deal to his host. There is a vein of 
human kindness in the Scot, and he is often endowed 
with a keen, half-instinctive judgment of his fellows 
which renders him less likely to be impressed by out¬ 
ward appearances and the accidental advantages of 
polished speech or tasteful dress than his southern 
neighbors. Vane would have had even more trouble 
in floating his company had not Nairn been satisfied 
with him. 

So ye are meaning to stay with Chisholm! ” the 
latter exclaimed. “We had Evelyn here two years 
ago, and Clara said something about her coming out 
again.” 

“ It’s nine years since I saw Evelyn.” 

“ Then there’s a surprise in store for ye. I believe 
they’ve a bonny place — and there’s no doubt Chis¬ 
holm will make ye welcome.” 


46 VANE OF THE TIMBERLANDS 

The slight pause was expressive. It implied that 
Nairn, who had a somewhat biting humor, could fur¬ 
nish a reason for Chisholm’s hospitality if he desired, 
and Vane was confirmed in this supposition when he 
saw the warning look which his hostess cast at her 
husband. 

“ It’s likely that we’ll have Evelyn again in the 
fall,” she said hastily. “ It’s a very small world, Mr. 
Vane.” 

‘‘ It’s a far cry from Vancouver to England,” Vane 
replied. How did you first come to know Chis¬ 
holm?” 

Nairn answered him. 

‘‘ Our acquaintance began with business. A con¬ 
cern that he was chairman of had invested in British 
Columbian mining stock; and he’s some kind of con¬ 
nection of Colquhoun’s.” 

Colquhoun was a man of some importance, who 
held a Crown appointment, and Vane felt inclined to 
wonder why Chisholm had not sent him a letter to 
him. Afterward, he guessed at the reason, which 
was not flattering to himself or his host. Nairn and 
he chatted a while on business topics, until there was 
a sound of voices below, and going down in company 
with Mrs. Nairn they found two or three new arrivals 
in the entrance hall. More came in; and when they 
sat down to supper. Vane was given a place beside a 
young lady whom he had already met. 

Jessy Horsfield was about his own age; tall and 
slight in figure, with regular features, a rather color¬ 
less face, and eyes of a cold, light blue. There was, 
however, something striking in her appearance, and 
Vane was gratified by her graciousness to him. Her 


A CHANGE OF ENVIRONMENT 47 

brother sat almost opposite them: a tall, spare man, 
with a somewhat expressionless countenance, except 
for the aggressive hardness in his eyes. Vane had 
noticed this look, and it had aroused his dislike, but 
he had not observed it in the eyes of Miss Horsfield, 
though it was present now and then. Nor did he 
realize that while she chatted she was unobtrusively 
studying him. She had not favored him with much 
notice when she was in his company on a previous 
occasion; he had been a man of no importance then. 

He was now dressed in ordinary attire, and the 
well-cut garments displayed his lean, athletic figure. 
His face. Miss Horsfield decided, was a good one: 
not exactly handsome, but attractive in its frankness; 
and she liked the way he had of looking steadily at 
the person he addressed. Though he had been, as 
she knew, a wandering chopper, a survey packer, and, 
for a time, an unsuccessful prospector, there was no 
coarsening stamp of toil on him. Indeed, the latter 
is not common in the West, where as yet the division 
of employments is not practised to the extent it is in 
older countries. Specialization has its advantages; 
but it brands a man’s profession upon him and ren¬ 
ders it difficult for him to change it. Except for the 
clear bronze of his skin. Vane might just have left 
a Government office, or have come out from London 
or Montreal. He was, moreover, a man whose ac¬ 
quaintance might be worth cultivating. 

“ I suppose you are glad you have finished your 
work in the bush,” she remarked presently. ‘‘ It must 
be nice to get back to civilization.” 

Vane smiled as he glanced round the room. It ran 
right across the house, and through the open windows 


48 VANE OF THE TIMBERLANDS 

came the clank of a locomotive bell down by the 
wharf and the rattle of a steamer’s winch. The 
sounds appealed to him. They suggested organized 
activity, the stir of busy life; and it was pleasant to 
hear them after the silence of the bush. The gleam 
of snowy linen, dainty glass and silver caught his 
eye; and the hum of careless voices and the light 
laughter were soothing. 

‘‘Yes; it’s remarkably nice after living for nine 
years in the wilderness, with only an occasional visit 
to some little wooden town.” 

A fresh dish was laid before him, and his companion 
smiled. 

“ You didn’t get things of this kind among the 
pines.” 

“ No,” laughed Vane. “ In fact, cookery is one of 
the bushman’s trials; anyway, when he’s working for 
himself. You come back dead tired, and often very 
wet, to your lonely tent, and then there’s a fire to 
make and supper to get before you can rest. It hap¬ 
pens now and then that you’re too played out to 
trouble, and you go to sleep instead.” 

“ Dreadful! ” sympathized the girl. “ But you have 
been in Vancouver before?” 

“ Except on the last occasion, I stayed down near 
the water-front. We were not provided with luxuri¬ 
ous quarters or with suppers of this kind there.” 

“ It’s romantic; and, though you’re glad it’s over, 
there must be some satisfaction in feeling that you 
owe the change to your own efforts. I mean it must 
be nice to think one has captured a fair share of the 
good things of life, instead of having them accidentally 
thrust upon one. Doesn’t it give you a feeling that 


A CHANGE OF ENVIRONMENT 49 

in some degree you’re master of your fate? I should 
like that!” 

It was subtle flattery, and there were reasons why 
it appealed to the man. He had worked for others, 
sometimes for inadequate wages, and had wandered 
about the Province, dusty and footsore, in search of 
employment, besides being beaten down at many a 
small bargain by richer or more fortunately situated 
men. Now, however, he had resolved that there 
should be a difference; instead of begging favors, he 
would dictate terms. 

“ I should have imagined it,” he laughed, in answer 
to her last remark; and he was right, for Jessy Hors- 
field was a clever woman who loved power and influ¬ 
ence. 

Vane dropped his napkin, and was stooping to pick 
it up when an attendant handed it back to him. He 
noticed and responded to the glimmer of amusement 
in his companion’s eyes. 

“We are not accustomed to being waited on in the 
bush,” he explained. “ It takes some time to get used 
to the change. When we wanted anything there we 
got it for ourselves.” 

“ Is that, in its wider sense, a characteristic of most 
bushmen ? ” 

“ I don’t quite follow.” 

The girl laughed. 

“ I suppose one could divide men into two classes: 
those who are able to get the things they desire for 
themselves — which implies the possession of certain 
eminently useful qualities — and those who have them 
given to them. In Canada the former are the more nu¬ 
merous.” 


50 VANE OF THE TIMBERLANDS 

‘‘ There’s a third division,” Vane corrected her, 
with a trace of grimness. “ I mean those who want 
a good many things and have to learn to do without. 
It strikes me they’re the most numerous of all.” 

It’s no doubt excellent discipline,” retorted his 
companion. 

She looked at him boldly, for she was interested 
in the man and was not afraid of personalities. 

In any case, you have now passed out of that 
division.” 

Vane sat silent for the next few moments. Up to 
the age of eighteen most of his reasonable wishes had 
been gratified. Then had come a startling change, 
and he had discovered in the Dominion that he must 
lead a life of Spartan self-denial. He had had the 
strength to do so, and for nine years he had reso¬ 
lutely banished most natural longings. Amusements, 
in some of which he excelled, the society of women, 
all the small amenities of life, were things which must 
be foregone, and he had forced himself to be content 
with food and, as a rule, very indifferent shelter. 
This, as his companion suggested, had proved a whole¬ 
some discipline, since it had not soured him. Now, 
though he did not overvalue them, he rejoiced in his 
new surroundings, and the girl’s comeliness and quick¬ 
ness of comprehension had their full effect. 

It was you who located the Clermont Mine, wasn’t 
it ? ” she went on. ‘‘ I read something about it in the 
papers — I think they said it was copper ore.” 

This vagueness was misleading, for her brother had 
given her a good deal of definite information about 
the mine. 

Yes,” replied Vane, willing to take up any subject 


A CHANGE OF ENVIRONMENT 51 

she suggested; “ it’s copper ore, but there’s some silver 
combined with it. Of course, the value of any ore 
depends upon two things — the percentage of the 
metal, and the cost of extracting it.” 

Her interest was flattering, and he added: 

In both respects, the Clermont product is prom¬ 
ising.” 

After that he did not remember what they talked 
about; but the time passed rapidly and he was surprised 
when Mrs. Nairn rose and the company drifted away 
by twos and threes toward the veranda. Left by him¬ 
self a moment, he came upon Carroll sauntering down 
a corridor. 

** I’ve had a chat with Horsfield,” Carroll remarked. 

“ Well?” 

“ He may merely have meant to make himself agree¬ 
able, and he may have wished to extract information 
about you. If the latter was his object, he was not 
successful.” 

“ Ah! Nairn’s straight, anyway, and to be relied 
on. I like him and his wife.” 

‘‘ So do I, though they differ from some of the 
others. There’s not much gilding on either of 
them.” 

“ It’s not needed; they’re sterling metal.” 

“ That’s my own idea.” 

Carroll moved away and Vane strolled out onto 
the veranda, where Horsfield joined him a few min¬ 
utes later. 

‘‘ I don’t know whether it’s a very suitable time 
to mention it; but may I ask whether you are any 
nearer a decision about that smelter? Candidly, I’d 
like the contract.” 


52 VANE OF THE TIMBERLANDS 

I am not/’ Vane answered. I can’t make up my 
mind, and I may postpone the matter indefinitely. It 
might prove more profitable to ship the ore out for 
reduction.” 

Horsfield examined his cigar. 

‘‘Of course, I can’t press you; but I may, perhaps, 
suggest that, as we’ll have to work together in other 
matters, I might be able to give you a quid pro quo.” 

“ That occurred to me. On the other hand, I don’t 
know how much importance I ought to attach to the 
consideration.” 

His companion laughed with apparent good-humor. 

“ Oh, well; I must wait until you’re ready.” 

He strolled away, and presently joined his sister. 

“How does Vane strike you?” he asked. “You 
seem to get on with him.” 

“ I’ve an idea that you won’t find him easy to in¬ 
fluence,” answered the girl, looking at her brother 
pointedly. 

“ I’m inclined to agree with you. In spite of that, 
he’s a man whose acquaintance is worth cultivating.” 

He passed on to speak to Nairn; and shortly after¬ 
ward Vane sat down beside Jessy in a corner of a big 
room. Looking out across the veranda, he could see 
far-off snowy heights tower in cold silver tracery 
against the green of the evening sky. Voices and 
laughter reached him, and now and then some of the 
guests strolled through the room. It was pleasant to 
lounge there and feel that Miss Horsfield had taken 
him under her wing, which seemed to describe her 
attitude toward him. She was handsome, and he no¬ 
ticed how finely the soft, neutral tinting of her attire, 
which was neither blue nor altogether gray, matched 


A CHANGE OF ENVIRONMENT 53 

the azure of her eyes and emphasized the dead-gold 
coloring of her hair. 

‘‘ As Mrs. Nairn tells me you are going to Eng¬ 
land, I suppose we shall not see you in Vancouver for 
some months,” she said presently. “ This city really 
isn’t a bad place to live in.” 

Vane felt gratified. She had implied that he would 
be an acquisition and had included him among the 
number of her acquaintances. 

I fancy that I shall find it a particularly pleasant 
place,” he responded. “ Indeed, I’m inclined to be 
sorry that I’ve made arrangements to leave it very 
shortly.” 

‘‘ That is pure good-nature,” laughed his companioa 

‘‘ No; it’s what I really feel.” 

Jessy let this pass. 

“ Mrs. Nairn mentioned that you know the Chis¬ 
holms.” 

‘‘ I’d better say that I used to do so. They have 
probably changed out of my knowledge, and they can 
scarcely remember me except by name.” 

‘‘ But you are going to see them ? ” 

“ I expect to spend some time with them.” 

Jessy changed the subject, and Vane found her con¬ 
versation entertaining. She appealed to his artistic 
perceptions and his intelligence, and it must be admitted 
that she laid herself out to do so. She said nothing 
of any consequence, but she knew how to make a 
glance or a changed inflection expressive. He was 
sorry when she left him, but she smiled at him before 
she moved away. 

''If you and Mr. Carroll care to call, I am gen¬ 
erally at home in the afternoon,” she said. 


54 VANE OF THE TIMBERLANDS 

She crossed the room, and Vane joined Nairn and 
remained near him until he took his departure. 

Late the next afternoon, an hour or two after an 
Empress liner from China and Japan had arrived, he 
and Carroll reached the C. P. R. station. The At¬ 
lantic train was waiting and an unusual number of 
passengers were hurrying about the cars. They were, 
for the most part, prosperous people: business men, 
and tourists from England going home that way; and 
when Vane found Mrs. Marvin and Kitty, he once 
more was conscious of a stirring of compassion. The 
girl’s dress, which had struck him as becoming on the 
afternoon they spent on the beach, now looked shabby. 
In Mrs. Marvin’s case, the impression was more 
marked, and standing amid the bustling throng with 
the child clinging to her hand she looked curiously 
forlorn. Kitty smiled at him diffidently. 

You have been so kind,” she began, and, pausing, 
added with a tremor in her voice: “ But the tick¬ 

ets —” 

Pshaw! ” interrupted Vane. ‘‘If it will ease your 
mind, you can send me what they cost after the first 
full house you draw.” 

“ How shall we address you? ” 

“ Clermont Mineral Exploitation. I don’t want to 
think I’m going to lose sight of you.” 

Kitty looked away from him a moment, and then 
looked back. 

“ I’m afraid you must make up your mind to that,” 
she said. 

Vane could not remember his answer, though he 
afterward tried; but just then an official strode along 
beside the cars, calling to the passengers, and when a 


A CHANGE OF ENVIRONMENT 55 

bell began tolling Vane hurried the girl and her com¬ 
panions onto a platform. Mrs. Marvin entered the 
car, Elsie held up her face to kiss him before she dis¬ 
appeared, and he and Kitty were left alone. She held 
out her hand, and a liquid gleam crept into her eyes. 

We can’t thank you properly,” she murmured. 
‘‘ Good-by!” 

No,” Vane protested. “ You mustn’t say that.” 

‘^Yes,” answered Kitty firmly, but with signs of 
eflfort. ‘‘ It’s good-by. You’ll be carried on in a 
moment! ” 

Vane gazed down at her, and afterward wondered 
at what he did, but she looked so forlorn and desolate, 
and the pretty face was so close to his. Stooping 
swiftly, he kissed her, and had a thrilling fancy that 
she did not recoil; then the cars lurched forward and 
he swung himself down. They slid past him, clanking, 
while he stood and gazed after them. Turning 
around, he was by no means pleased to see that Nairn 
was regarding him with quiet amusement. 

‘‘ Been seeing the train away ? ” the latter suggested. 

It’s a popular diversion with idle folk.” 

“ I was saying good-by to somebody I met on the 
west coast,” Vane explained. 

‘‘ Weel,” chuckled Nairn, she has bonny een.” 


CHAPTER V 


THE OLD COUNTRY 

A MONTH after Vane said good-by to Kitty he 
and Carroll alighted one evening at a little sta¬ 
tion in northern England. Brown moors stretched 
about it, for the heather had not bloomed yet, rolling 
back in long slopes to the high ridge which cut against 
leaden thunder-clouds in the eastern sky. To the west¬ 
ward, they fell away; and across a wide, green valley 
smooth-backed heights gave place in turn to splintered 
crags and ragged pinnacles etched in gray and purple 
on a vivid saffron glow. The road outside the station 
gleamed with water, and a few big drops of rain came 
splashing down, but there was a bracing freshness in 
the mountain air. 

The train went on, and Vane stood still, looking 
about him with a poignant recollection of how he had 
last waited on that platform, sick at heart, but gather¬ 
ing his youthful courage for the effort that he must 
make. It all came back to him — the dejection, the 
sense of loneliness — for he was then going out to 
the Western Dominion in which he had not a friend. 
Now he was returning, moderately prosperous and 
successful; but once again the feeling of loneliness 
was with him — most of those whom he had left be¬ 
hind had made a longer journey than he had done. 
Then he noticed an elderly man, in rather shabby liv- 

56 


THE OLD COUNTRY 


57 

ery, approaching, and he held out his hand with a 
smile of pleasure. 

‘‘You haven’t changed a bit, Jim!” he exclaimed. 
“ Have you got the young gray in the new cart out¬ 
side? ” 

“ T’ owd gray was shot twelve months since,” the 
man replied. “ Broke his leg cornin’ down Hartop 
Bank. New car was sold off, done, two or t’ree years 
ago. 

“ That’s bad news. Anyway, you’re the same.” 

“ A bit stiffer in the joints, and maybe a bit sourer,” 
was the answer. Then the man’s wrinkled face re¬ 
laxed. “ I’m main glad to see thee, Mr. Wallace. 
Master wad have come, only he’d t’ gan t’ Manchester 
suddenly.” 

Vane helped him to place their baggage into the 
trap and then bade him sit behind; and as he gath¬ 
ered up the reins, he glanced at the horse and harness. 
The one did not show the breeding of the gray he re¬ 
membered, and there was no doubt that the other was 
rather the worse for wear. They set off down the 
descending road, which wound, unconfined, through 
the heather, where the raindrops sparkled like dia¬ 
monds. Farther down, they ran in between rough 
limestone walls with gleaming spar in them, smothered 
here and there in trailing brambles and clumps of fern, 
while the streams that poured out from black gaps in 
the peat and flowed beside the road flashed with cop¬ 
pery gold in the evening light. It was growing 
brighter ahead of them, though inky clouds still clung 
to the moors behind. 

By and by, ragged hedges, rent and twisted by the 
winds, climbed up to meet them, and, clattering down 


58 VANE OF THE TIMBERLANDS 

between the straggling greenery, they crossed a river 
sparkling over banks of gravel. After that, there was 
a climb, for the country rolled in ridge and valley, and 
the crags ahead, growing nearer, rose in more rugged 
grandeur against the paling glow. Carroll gazed 
about him in open appreciation as they drove. 

“ This little compact country is really wonderful, in 
its way! he exclaimed. “ There’s so much squeezed 
into it, even leaving out your towns. Parts of it are 
like Ontario — the southern strip I mean — with the 
plow-land, orchards and homesteads sprinkled among 
the woods and rolling ground. Then your Midlands 
are like the prairie, only that they’re greener — 
there’s the same sweep of grass and the same sweep of 
sky, and this ”— he gazed at the rugged hills rent by 
winding dales —is British Columbia on a miniature 
scale.” 

‘‘Yes,” agreed Vane; “it isn’t monotonous.” 

“ Now you have hit it! That’s the precise differ¬ 
ence. We’ve three belts of country, beginning at 
Labrador and running west — rock and pine scrub, 
level prairie, and ranges piled on ranges beyond the 
Rockies. Hundreds of leagues of each of them, and, 
within their limits, all the same. But this country’s 
mixed. You can get what you like — woods, smooth 
grass-land, mountains — in a few hours’ ride.” 

Vane smiled. 

“ Our people and their speech and habits are mixed, 
too. There’s more difference between county and 
county in thirty miles than there is right across your 
whole continent. You’re cast in the one mold.” 

“ I’m inclined to think it’s a good one,” laughed 
Carroll. “ What’s more, it has set its stamp on you. 


THE OLD COUNTRY 


59 

The very way your clothes hang proclaims that you’re 
a Westerner.” 

Vane laughed good-humoredly; but as they clattered 
through a sleepy hamlet with its little, square-towered 
church overhanging a brawling river, his face grew 
grave. Pulling up the horse, he handed the reins to 
Carroll. 

“ This is the first stage of my pilgrimage. I won’t 
keep you five minutes.” 

He swung himself down, and the groom motioned 
to him. 

‘‘West of the tower, Mr. Wallace; just before you 
reach the porch.” 

Vane passed through the wicket in the lichened 
limestone wall, and there was a troubled look in his 
eyes when he came back and took the reins again. 

“ I went away in bitterness — and I’m sorry now,” 
he said. “ The real trouble was unimportant; I think 
it was forgotten. Every now and then the letters 
came; but the written word is cold. There are things 
that can never be set quite right in this world.” 

Carroll made no comment, though he knew that 
if it had not been for the bond between them his com¬ 
rade would not have spoken so. They drove on in 
silence for a while, and then, as they entered a deep, 
wooded dale. Vane turned to him again. 

“ I’ve been taken right back into the old days to¬ 
night ; days in England, and afterward those when we 
worked on the branch road beneath the range. 
There’s not a boy among the crowd in the sleeping- 
shack I can’t recall — first, wild Larry, who taught 
me how to drill and hid my rawness from the Con¬ 
struction Boss.” 


6o VANE OF THE TIMBERLANDS 

He lent me his gum-boots when the muskeg stif¬ 
fened into half-frozen slush,” Carroll interrupted him. 

And was smashed by the snowslide,” Vane went 
on. “Then there was Tom, from the boundary 
country. He packed me back a league to camp the day 
I chopped my right foot; and went down in the lum¬ 
ber schooner off Flattery. Black Pete, too, who held 
onto you in the rapid when we were running the 
bridge-logs through. It was in firing a short fuse that 
he got his discharge.” He raised his free hand, with 
a wry smile. “Gone on — with more of their kind 
after them; a goodly company. Why are we left pros¬ 
perous ? What have we done ? ” 

Carroll made no response. The question was unan¬ 
swerable, and after a while Vane abruptly began to 
talk about their business in British Columbia. It 
passed the time; and he had resumed his usual man¬ 
ner when he pulled up where a stile path led across a 
strip of meadow. 

“ You can drive round; we’ll be there before you,” 
he said to the groom as he got down. 

Carroll and he crossed the meadow. Passing 
around a clump of larches they came suddenly into 
sight of an old gray house with a fir wood rolling 
down the hillside close behind it. The building was 
long and low, weather-worn and stained with lichens 
where the creepers and climbing roses left the stone 
exposed. The bottom row of mullioned windows 
opened upon a terrace, and in front of the terrace ran 
a low wall with a broad coping on which were placed 
urns bright with geraniums. It was pierced by an 
opening approached by shallow stairs on which an 


THE OLD COUNTRY 6i 

iridescent peacock stood, and in front of all that 
stretched a sweep of lawn. 

A couple of minutes later, a lady met them in the 
wide hall, and held out her hand to Vane. She was 
middle-aged, and had once been handsome, but now 
there were wrinkles about her eyes, which had a hint 
of hardness in them, and her lips were thin. Carroll 
noticed that they closed tightly when she was not 
speaking. 

“ Welcome home, Wallace,’^ she said effusively. 
“ It should not be difficult to look upon the Dene as 
that — you were here so often once upon a time.” 

‘‘ Thank you,” was the response. “ I felt tempted 
to ask Jim to drive me round by Low Wood; I wanted 
to see the place again.” 

Tm glad you didn’t. The house is shut up and 
going to pieces. It would have been depressing to¬ 
night.” 

Vane presented Carroll. Mrs. Chisholm’s manner 
was gracious, but for no particular reason Carroll 
wondered whether she would have extended the same 
welcome to his comrade had the latter not come back 
the discoverer of a profitable mine. 

“ Tom was sorry he couldn’t wait to meet you, but 
he had to leave for Manchester on some urgent busi¬ 
ness,” she apologized. 

Just then a girl with disordered hair and an un¬ 
usual length of stocking displayed beneath her scanty 
skirt came up to them. 

This is Mabel,” said Mrs. Chisholm. I hardly 
think you will remember her.” 

I’ve carried her across the meadow.” 


62 VANE OF THE TIMBERLANDS 

The girl greeted the strangers demurely, and 
favored Vane with a critical gaze. 

‘‘ So you’re Wallace Vane — who floated the Cler¬ 
mont Mine! Though I don’t remember you, I’ve 
heard a good deal about you lately. Very pleased to 
make your acquaintance I ” 

Vane’s eyes twinkled as he shook hands with her. 
Her manner was quaintly formal, but he fancied that 
there was a spice of mischief hidden behind it. Car- 
roll, watching his hostess, surmised that her daugh¬ 
ter’s remarks had not altogether pleased her. She 
chatted with them, however, until the man who had 
driven them appeared with their baggage, when they 
were shown their respective rooms. 

Vane was the first to go down. Reaching the hall, 
he found nobody there, though a clatter of dishes 
and a clink of silver suggested that a meal was being 
laid out in an adjoining room. Sitting down near the 
hearth, he looked about him. The house was old; a 
wide stairway with a quaintly carved balustrade of 
dark oak ran up one side and led to a landing, also 
fronted with ponderous oak rails. The place was 
shadowy, but a stream of light from a high window 
struck athwart one part of it and fell upon the stairs. 

Vane’s eyes rested on many objects that he recog¬ 
nized, but as his glance traveled to and fro it occurred 
to him that much of what he saw conveyed a hint 
that economy was needful. Part of the rich mold¬ 
ing of the Jacobean mantel had fallen away, and 
patches of the key pattern bordering the panels be¬ 
neath it had broken off, though he decided that a 
clever cabinet-maker could have repaired the damage 
in a day. There were one or two choice rugs on the 


THE OLD COUNTRY 


63 

floor, but they were threadbare; the heavy hangings 
about the inner doors were dingy and moth-eaten; 
and, though all this was in harmony with the drowsy 
quietness and the faint smell of decay, it had its sig¬ 
nificance. 

Presently he heard footsteps, and looking up he saw 
a girl descending the stairs in the fading stream of 
light. She was clad in trailing white, which gleamed 
against the dark oak and rustled softly as it flowed 
about a tall, finely outlined and finely poised figure. 
She had hair of dark brown with paler lights in its 
curling tendrils, gathered back from a neck that 
showed a faintly warmer whiteness than the snowy 
fabric below it. It was her face, though, that seized 
Vane’s attention: the level brows; the quiet, deep 
brown eyes; the straight, cleanly-cut nose; and the 
subtle suggestion of steadfastness and pride which 
they all conveyed. He rose with a cry that had pleas¬ 
ure and eagerness in it. 

Evelyn!” 

She came down, moving lightly but with a rhythmic 
grace, and laid a firm, cool hand in his. 

‘‘ I’m glad to see you back, Wallace,” she said. 
‘‘ How you have changed I ” 

“ I’m not sure that’s kind,” smiled Vane. In some 
ways, you haven’t changed at all; I would have known 
you anywhere I ” 

“ Nine years is a long time to remember any one.” 

Vane had seen few women during that period; but 
he was not a fool, and he recognized that this was no 
occasion for an attempt at gallantry. There was noth¬ 
ing coquettish in Evelyn’s words, nor was there any 
irony. She had answered in the tranquil, matter-of- 


64 VANE OF THE TIMBERLANDS 

fact manner which, as he remembered, usually charac¬ 
terized her. 

‘‘ It’s a little while since you landed, isn’t it? ” she 
added. 

“ A week. I had some business in London, and 
then I went on to look up Lucy. She had just gone 
up to town — to a congress, I believe — and so I 
missed her. I shall go up again to see her as soon as 
she answers my letter.” 

“ It won’t be necessary. She’s coming here for a 
fortnight.” 

“ That’s very kind. Whom have I to thank for 
suggesting it? ” 

“ Does it matter ? It was a natural thing to ask 
your only sister — who is a friend of mine. There is 
plenty of room, and the place is quiet.” 

“ It didn’t used to be. If I remember, your mother 
generally had it full part of the year.” 

‘‘ Things have changed,” said Evelyn quietly. 

Vane was baffled by something in her manner. 
Evelyn had never been effusive — that was not her 
way — but now, while she was cordial, she did not 
seem disposed to resume their acquaintance where it 
had been broken off. After all, he could hardly have 
expected this. 

Mabel is like you, as you used to be,” he ob¬ 
served. “ It struck me as soon as I saw her; but 
when she began to talk there was a difference.” 

Evelyn laughed softly. 

“ Yes; I think you’re right in both respects. Mopsy 
has the courage of her convictions. She’s an open 
rebel.” 

There was no bitterness in her laugh. Evelyn’s 


THE OLD COUNTRY 


65 

manner was never pointed; but Vane fancied that 
she had said a meaning thing — one that might ex¬ 
plain what he found puzzling in her attitude, when he 
held the key to it. 

“ Mopsy was dubious about you before you arrived, 
but Fm pleased to say she seems reassured,” she 
laughed. 

Carroll came down, and a few moments later Mrs. 
Chisholm appeared and they went in to dinner in 
a low-ceilinged room. During the general conversa¬ 
tion, Mabel suddenly turned to Vane. 

I suppose you have brought your pistols with 
you ? ” 

“ I haven’t owned one since I was sixteen,” Vane 
laughed. 

The girl looked at him with an excellent assump¬ 
tion of incredulity. 

‘‘ Then you have never shot anybody in British 
Columbia! ” 

Carroll laughed, as if this greatly pleased him, but 
Vane’s face was rather grave as he answered her. 

‘‘ No; Fm thankful to say that I haven’t. In fact. 
I’ve never seen a shot fired, except at a grouse or a 
deer.” 

Then the West must be getting what the Arch¬ 
deacon — he’s Flora’s husband, you know —.calls de¬ 
cadent,” the girl sighed. 

“ She’s incorrigible,” Mrs. Chisholm interposed with 
a smile. 

Carroll leaned toward Mabel confidentially. 

“ In case you feel very badly disappointed, I’ll let 
you into a secret. When we feel real, real savage, we 
take the ax instead.” 


66 VANE OF THE TIMBERLANDS 

Evelyn fancied that Vane winced at this, but Mabel 
looked openly regretful. 

Can either of you pick up a handkerchief going at 
full gallop on horseback?” she inquired. 

‘‘ I^m sorry to say that I can’t; and I’ve never seen 
Wallace do so,” Carroll laughed. 

Mrs. Chisholm shook her head at her daughter. 

‘‘ Miss Clifford complained of your inattention to 
the study of English last quarter,” she reproved se¬ 
verely. 

Mabel made no answer, though Vane thought it 
would have relieved her to grimace. 

Presently the meal came to an end, and an hour 
afterward, Mrs. Chisholm rose from her seat in the 
lamplit drawing-room. 

“We keep early hours at the Dene, but you will re¬ 
tire when you like,” she said. “ As Tom is away, I 
had better tell you that you will find syphons and 
whisky in the smoking-room. I have had the lamp 
lighted.” 

“ Thank you,” Vane replied with a smile. “ I’m 
afraid you have taken more trouble on our account 
than you need have done. Except on special occa¬ 
sions, we generally confine ourselves to strong green 
tea.” 

Mabel looked at him in amazement. 

“Oh!” she cried. “The West is certainly deca¬ 
dent ! You should be here when the otter hounds are 
out. Why, it was only —” 

She broke off abruptly beneath her mother’s wither¬ 
ing glance. 

When Vane and Carroll were left alone, they strolled 
out, pipe in hand, upon the terrace. They could see 


THE OLD COUNTRY 


67 ! 

the fells tower darkly against the soft sky, and a 
tarn that lay in the blackness of the valley beneath 
them was revealed by its pale gleam. A wonderful 
mingling of odors stole out of the still summer night. 

I suppose you could put in a few weeks here ? ” 
Vane remarked. 

‘‘ I could,” Carroll replied. ‘‘ There’s an atmos¬ 
phere about these old houses that appeals to me, per¬ 
haps because we have nothing like it in Canada. The 
tranquillity of age is in it — it’s restful, as a change. 
Besides, I think your friends mean to make things 
pleasant.” 

“ I’m glad you like them.” 

Carroll knew that his comrade would not resent a 
candid expression of opinion. 

“I do; the girls in particular. They interest me. 
The younger one’s of a type that’s common in our 
country, though it’s generally given room for free 
development into something useful there. Mabel’s 
chafing at the curb. It remains to be seen whether 
she’ll kick, presently, and hurt herself in doing so.” 

Vane remembered that Evelyn had said something 
to the same effect; but he had already discovered that 
Carroll possessed a keen insight in certain matters. 

“ And her sister ? ” he suggested. 

‘‘ You won’t mind my saying that I’m inclined to 
be sorry for her ? She has learned repression — been 
driven into line. That girl has character, but it’s be¬ 
ing cramped and stunted. You live in walled-in com¬ 
partments in this country.” 

‘‘ Doesn’t the same thing apply to New York, Mon¬ 
treal, or Toronto? ” 

Not to the same extent. We haven’t had time yet 


68 VANE OF THE TIMBERLANDS 


to number off all the little subdivisions and make rules 
for them, nor to elaborate the niceties of an immutable 
system. No doubt, we’ll come to it.” 

He paused with a deprecatory laugh. 

“ Mrs. Chisholm believes in the system. She has 
been modeled on it — it’s got into her blood; and that’s 
why she’s at variance with her daughters. No doubt, 
the thing’s necessary; I’m finding no fault with it. 
You must remember that we’re outsiders, with a dif¬ 
ferent outlook; we’ve lived in the new West.” 

Vane strolled on along the terrace thoughtfully. 
He was not offended; he understood his companion’s 
attitude. Like other men of education and good 
upbringing driven by unrest or disaster to the un¬ 
trammeled life of the bush, Carroll had gained sym¬ 
pathy as well as knowledge. Facing facts candidly, 
he seldom indulged in decided protest against any 
of them. On the other hand, Vane was on occasion 
liable to outbreaks of indignation. 

“ Well,” said Vane at length, “ I guess it’s time 
to go to bed.” 


CHAPTER VI 


UPON THE HEIGHTS 


ANE rose early the next morning, as he had 



▼ been accustomed to do, and taking a towel he 
made his way across dewy meadows and between tall 
hedgerows to the tarn. Stripping where the rabbit- 
cropped sward met the mossy boulders, he swam 
out, joyously breasting the little ripples which 
splashed and sparkled beneath the breeze that had got 
up with the sun. Coming back, where the water 
lay in shadow beneath a larchwood which as yet had not 
wholly lost its vivid vernal green, he disturbed the 
paddling moor-hens and put up a mallard from a 
clump of swaying reeds. Then he dressed and turned 
homeward, glowing, beside a sluggish stream which 
wound through a waste of heather where the curlew 
were whistling eerily. He had no cares to trouble 
him, and it was delightful to feel that he had nothing 
to do except to enjoy himself in what he considered 
the fairest country in the world, at least in summer¬ 


time. 


Scrambling over a limestone wall tufted thick 
with parsley fern, he noticed Mabel stooping over an 
object which lay among the heather where a rough 
cartroad approached a wooden bridge. On joining 
her he saw that she was examining a finely-built 
canoe with a hole in one bilge. She looked up at 
him ruefully. 


69 


70 VANE OF THE TIMBERLANDS 

“ It’s sad, isn’t it ? That stupid Little did it with 
his clumsy cart.” 

‘‘ I think it could be mended,” Vane replied. 

“ Old Beavan — he’s the wheelwright — said it 
couldn’t; and Dad said I could hardly expect him to 
send the canoe back to Kingston. He bought it for 
me at an exhibition.” 

Then a thought seemed to strike her and her eyes 
grew eager. 

‘‘ Perhaps you had something to do with light 
canoes in Canada ? ” 

“ Yes; I used to pole one loaded with provisions 
up a river and carry the lot round several falls. If 
I remember, I made eight shillings a day at it, and 
I think I earned it. You’re fond of paddling? ” 

“ I love it! I used to row the fishing-punt, but 
it’s too old to be safe; and now that the canoe’s 
smashed I can’t go out at all.” 

“ Well, we’ll walk across and see what we can find 
in Beavan’s shop.” 

He took a few measurements, making them on a 
stick, and they crossed the heath to a tiny hamlet 
nestling in a hollow of a limestone crag. There 
Vane made friends with the wheelwright, who re¬ 
garded him dubiously at first, and obtained a piece 
of larch board from him. The grizzled North 
Countryman watched him closely as he set a plane, 
which is a delicate operation, and he raised no ob¬ 
jections when Vane made use of his work-bench. 
When the board had been sawed up. Vane borrowed 
a few tools and copper nails, and he and Mabel went 
back to the canoe. On the way she glanced at him 
curiously. 


UPON THE HEIGHTS 


71 


I wasn’t sure old Beavan would let you have the 
things,” she remarked. '' It isn’t often he’ll even 
lend a hammer, but he seemed to take to you; I think 
it was the way you handled his plane.” 

‘‘ It’s strange what little things win some people’s 
good opinion, isn’t it ? ” 

Oh, don’t! ” exclaimed Mabel. “ That’s the 
way the Archdeacon talks. I thought you were differ¬ 
ent!” 

The man acquiesced in the rebuke; and after an 
hour’s labor at the canoe, he scraped the red lead 
he had used off his hands and sat down beside the 
craft. The sun was warm now, the dew was dry¬ 
ing, and a lark sang riotously overhead. Vane be¬ 
came conscious that his companion was regarding 
him with what seemed to be approval. 

“ I really think you’ll do, and we’ll get on,” she 
informed him. ‘^If you had been the wrong kind, 
you would have worried about your red hands. 
Still, you could have rubbed them on the heather, 
instead of on your socks.” 

I might have thought of that,” Vane laughed. 
“ But, you see. I’ve been accustomed to wearing old 
clothes. Anyway, you’ll be able to launch the canoe 
as soon as the joint’s dry.” 

‘‘ There’s one thing I should have told you,” the 
girl replied. ‘‘ Dad would have sent the canoe away 
to be mended if it hadn’t been so far. He’s very 
good when things don’t ruffle him; but he hasn’t been 
fortunate lately. The lead mine takes a good deal of 
money.” 

Vane admired her loyalty, and he refrained from 
taking advantage of her candor, though there were 


72 VANE OF THE TIMBERLANDS 

one or two questions he would have liked to ask. 
When he was last in England, Chisholm had been 
generally regarded as a man of means, though it 
was rumored that he was addicted to hazardous 
speculations. Mabel, without noticing his silence, 
went on: 

I heard Stevens — he’s the gamekeeper — tell 
Beavan that Dad should have been a rabbit because 
he’s so fond of burrowing. No doubt, that meant 
that he couldn’t keep out of mines.” 

Vane made no comment; and Mabel, breaking off 
for a moment, looked up at the rugged fells to the 
west and then around at the moors which cut against 
the blue of the morning sky. 

‘‘ It’s all very pretty, but it shuts one in! ” she 
cried. ‘'You feel you want to get out and can’t! 
I suppose you really couldn’t take me back with you 
to Canada? ” 

“ I’m afraid not. If you were about ten years 
older, it might be possible.” 

Mabel grimaced. 

“ Oh, don’t! That’s the kind of thing some of 
Gerald’s smart friends say, and it makes one want 
to slap them! Besides,” she added naively, glancing 
down at her curtailed skirt, “ I’m by no means so young 
as I appear to be. The fact is. I’m not allowed to 
grow up yet.” 

“ Why?” 

The girl laughed at him. 

“ Oh, you’ve lived in the woods. If you had 
stayed in England, you would understand.” 

“ I’m afraid I’ve been injudicious,” Vane answered 


UPON THE HEIGHTS 


73 

with a show of humility. “ But don’t you think 
it’s getting on toward breakfast time?” 

Breakfast won’t be for a good while yet. We 
don’t get up early. Evelyn used to, but it’s different 
now. We used to go out on the tarn every morning, 
even in the wind and rain; but I suppose that’s not 
good for one’s complexion, though bothering about 
such things doesn’t seem to me to be worth while. 
Aunt Julia couldn’t do anything for Evelyn, though 
she had her in London for some time. Flora is our 
shining light.” 

‘‘What did she do?” 

“ She married the Archdeacon; and he isn’t so very 
dried up. I’ve seen him smile when I talked to him.” 

“ I’m not astonished at that, Mabel,” laughed Vane. 

His companion looked up at him. 

“ My name’s not Mabel — to you. I’m Mopsy to 
the family, but my special friends call me Mops. 
You’re one of the few people one can be natural with, 
and I’m getting sick — you won’t be shocked — of 
having to be the opposite. If you’ll come along, I’ll 
show you the setter puppies.” 

It was half an hour later when Vane, who had 
seldom had to wait so long for breakfast, sat down 
with an excellent appetite. The spacious room 
pleased him after the cramped quarters to which he 
had been accustomed. The sunlight that streamed 
in sparkled on choice old silver and glowed on freshly 
gathered flowers; and through the open windows 
mingled fragrances flowed in from the gardens. All 
that his gaze rested on spoke of ease and taste and 
leisure. Evelyn, sitting opposite him, looked won- 


74 VANE OF THE TIMBERLANDS 

derfully fresh in her white dress; Mopsy was as 
amusing as she dared to be; but Vane felt drawn 
back to the restless world again as he glanced at his 
hostess and saw the wrinkles round her eyes and a 
hint of cleverly hidden strain in her expression. He 
fancied that a good deal could be deduced from the 
fragments of information her younger daughter had 
given him. 

It was Mabel who suggested that they should 
picnic upon the summit of a lofty hill, from which 
there was a striking view; and as this met with the 
approval of Mrs. Chisholm, who excused herself from 
accompanying them, they set out an hour later. 
The day was bright, with glaring sunshine, and a 
moderate breeze drove up wisps of ragged cloud that 
dappled the hills with flitting shadow. Towering 
crag and shingly scree showed blue and purple through 
it and then flashed again into brilliancy, while the long, 
grassy slopes gleamed with silvery gray and ocher. 

On leaving the head of the valley they climbed 
leisurely up easy slopes, slipping on the crisp hill 
grass now and then. By and by they plunged into 
tangled heather on a bolder ridge, rent by black 
gullies, down which at times wild torrents poured. 
This did not trouble either of the men, who were 
used to forcing a passage over more rugged hillsides 
and through leagues of matted brush, but Vane was 
surprised at the ease with which Evelyn threaded 
her way across the heath. She wore a short skirt 
and stout laced boots, and he noticed the supple 
grace of her movements and the delicate color the 
wind had brought into her face. It struck him that 
she had somehow changed since they had left the 


UPON THE HEIGHTS 


75 


valley. She seemed to have flung off something, and 
her laugh had a gay ring; but, while she smiled and 
chatted with him, he was still conscious of a subtle 
reserve in her manner. 

Climbing still, they reached the haunts of the 
cloudberries and brushed through broad patches of 
the snowy blossoms that open their gleaming cups 
among the moss and heather. Vane gathered a hand¬ 
ful and gave them to Evelyn. 

“ You should wear these. They grow only far up 
on the heights.’’ 

She flashed a swift glance at him, but she smiled 
as she drew the fragile stalks through her belt, and 
he felt that had it been permissible he could have 
elaborated the idea in his mind. They are stainless 
flowers, passionlessly white, that grow beyond the 
general reach of man, where the air is keen and pure; 
and, in spite of her graciousness, there was a cold¬ 
ness and a calm, which instead of repelling appealed 
to him strongly, about this girl. Mabel laughed mis¬ 
chievously. 

“If you want to give me flowers, it had better be 
marsh-marigolds,” she said. “ They grow low down 
where it’s slushy — but they blaze.” 

Carroll laughed. 

“ Mabel,” he remarked a few moments later to 
Vane, “ is unguarded in what she says, but she now 
and then shows signs of being considerably older than 
her years.” 

They left the black peat-soil behind them, and the 
heather gave place to thin and more fragile ling, 
beaded with its unopened buds, while fangs of rock 
cropped out here and there. Then turning the flank 


76 VANE OF THE TIMBERLANDS 

of a steep ascent, they reached the foot of a shingly 
scree, and sat down to lunch in the warm sunshine 
where the wind was cut off by the peak above. Be¬ 
neath them, a great rift opened up among the rocks, 
and far beyond the blue lake in the depths of it they 
could catch the silver gleam of the distant sea. 

The fishing creel in which the provisions had been 
carried was promptly emptied; and when Mabel after¬ 
ward took Carroll away to climb some neighboring 
crags, Vane lay resting on one elbow not far from 
Evelyn. She was looking down the long hollow, 
with the sunshine, which lighted a golden sparkle in 
her brown eyes, falling upon her face. 

You didn’t seem to mind the climb.” 

I enjoyed it,” Evelyn declared, glancing at the 
cloudberry blossom in her belt. I really am fond 
of the mountains, and I have to thank you for a day 
among them.” 

On the surface the words offered an opening for 
a complimentary rejoinder; but Vane was too shrewd 
to seize it. He had made one venture, and he sur¬ 
mised that a second one would not please her. 

“ They’re almost at your door. One would imag¬ 
ine that you could indulge in a scramble among them 
whenever it pleased you.” 

There are a good many things that look so close 
and still are out of reach,” Evelyn answered with 
a smile that somehow troubled him. Then her man¬ 
ner changed. You are content with this?” 

Vane gazed about him. Purple crags lay in 
shadow; glistening threads of water fell among the 
rocks; and long slopes lay steeped in softest color 
under the cloud-flecked summer sky. 


UPON THE HEIGHTS 


77 


“ Content is scarcely the right word for it,” he 
assured her. ‘‘If it weren’t so still and serene up 
here, I’d be riotously happy. There are reasons for 
this quite apart from the scenery; for one, it’s re¬ 
markably pleasant to feel that I need do nothing but 
what I like during the next few months.” 

“ The sensation must be unusual. I wonder if, 
even in your case, it will last so long? ” 

Vane laughed and stretched out one of his hands. 
It was lean and brown, and she could see the marks 
of old scars on the knuckles. 

“ In my case,” he answered, “ it has come only 
once in a lifetime, and, if it isn’t too presumptuous, 
I think I’ve earned it.” He indicated his battered 
fingers. “ That’s the result of holding a wet and 
slippery drill; and those aren’t the only marks I carry 
about with me — though I’ve been more fortunate 
than many fine comrades.” 

Evelyn noticed something that pleased her in his 
voice as he concluded. 

“ I suppose one must get hurt now and then,” she 
responded. “ After all, a bruise that’s only skin- 
deep doesn’t trouble one long, and no doubt some 
scars are honorable. It’s slow corrosion that’s the 
deadliest.” 

She broke off with a laugh. 

“ Moralizing’s out of place on a day like this,” she 
added; “ and such days are not frequent in the North. 
That’s their greatest charm.” 

Vane nodded. He knew the sad gray skies of his 
native land, when its lonely heights are blurred by 
driving snow-cloud or scourged by bitter rain for 
weeks together, though now and then they tower 


78 VANE OF THE TIMBERLANDS 

serenely into the blue heavens, steeped in ethereal 
splendor. Once more it struck him that in their 
latter aspect his companion resembled them. Made 
finely, of warm flesh and blood, she was yet ethereal 
too. There was something aloof and intangible about 
her that seemed in harmony with the hills among 
which she was born. 

“ Yes,” he agreed. “ On the face of it, the North 
is fickle; though to those who know it that’s a mis¬ 
leading term. To some of us it’s always the same, 
and its dark grimness makes one feel the radiance 
of its smile. For all that, I think we’re going to see 
a sudden change in the weather.” 

Long wisps of leaden cloud began to stream across 
the crags above, intensifying, until it seemed un¬ 
natural, the glow of light and color on the rest. 

“ I wonder if Mopsy is leading Mr. Carroll into 
any mischief? They have been gone some time,” said 
Evelyn. “ She has a trick of getting herself and 
other people into difficulties. I suppose he is an old 
friend of yours, as you brought him over; unless, 
perhaps, he’s acting as your secretary.” 

Vane’s eyes twinkled. 

‘Mf he came in any particular capacity, it’s as 
bear-leader. You see, there are a good many things 
I’ve forgotten in the bush, and, as I left this country 
young, there are no doubt some that I never learned.” 

‘‘And so you make Mr. Carroll your confidential 
adviser. How did he gain the necessary experience? ” 

“ That is more than I can tell you; but I’m inclined 
to believe he has been at one of the universities — 
Toronto, most likely. Anyhow, on the whole he 
acts as a judicious restraint.” 


UPON THE HEIGHTS 


79 

“ But don’t you really know anything about him ? ” 

“ Only what some years of close companionship 
have taught me, though I think that’s enough. For 
the rest, I took him on trust.” 

Evelyn looked surprised, and he spread out his 
hands in a humorous manner. 

“ A good many people have had to take me in 
that way, and they seemed willing to do so — the 
thing’s not uncommon in the West. Why should I 
be more particular than they were ? ” 

Just then Mabel and Carroll appeared. The lat¬ 
ter’s garments were stained in places, as if he had 
been scrambling over mossy rocks, and his pockets 
bulged. Mabel’s skirt was torn, while a patch of 
white skin showed through her stocking. 

“ We’ve found some sun-dew and two ferns I don’t 
know, as well as all sorts of other things,” she an-^ 
nounced. 

‘‘That’s correct,” vouched Carroll dryly; “I’ve 
got them. I guess they’re going to fill up most of the 
creel.” 

Mabel superintended their transfer, and then ad¬ 
dressed the others generally. 

“ I think we ought to go up the Pike now, when 
we have the chance. It isn’t much of a climb from 
here; and we’ll have rain before to-morrow. Be¬ 
sides, the quickest way back to the road is across the 
top and down the other side.” 

Evelyn agreed, and they set out, following a sheep 
path which skirted the screes, until they left the bank 
of sharp stones behind and faced a steep ascent. 
Parts of it necessitated a breathless scramble, and 
the sunlight faded from the hills as they climbed, 


8o VANE OF THE TIMBERLANDS 


while thicker wisps of cloud drove across the ragged 
summit. They reached the top at length and stopped, 
bracing themselves against a rush of chilly breeze, 
while they looked down upon a wilderness of leaden- 
colored rock. Long trails of mist were creeping in 
and out among the crags, and here and there masses 
of it gathered round the higher slopes. 

“ I think the Pike’s grandest in this weather,” 
Mabel declared. “ Look below, Mr. Carroll, and 
you’ll see the mountain’s like a starfish. It has 
prongs running out from it.” 

Carroll did as she directed him, and noticed three di¬ 
verging ridges springing off from the shoulders of the 
peak. Their crests, which were narrow, led down 
toward the valley, but their sides fell in rent and fis¬ 
sured crags to great black hollows. 

You can get down two of them,” Mabel went on. 
“ The first is the nearest to the road, but the third’s 
the easiest. It takes you to the Hause — that’s the 
gap between it and the next big hill. You must be 
a climber to try the middle one.” 

A few big drops began to fall, and Evelyn cut her 
sister’s explanations short. 

“ It strikes me that we’d better make a start at 
once,” she said. 

They set out, Mabel and Carroll leading, and draw¬ 
ing farther away from the two behind. The rain 
began in earnest as they descended. Rock slope and 
scattered stones were slippery, and Vane found it 
difficult to keep his footing on some of their lichened 
surfaces. He was relieved, however, to see that his 
companion seldom hesitated, and they made their way 
downward cautiously, until near the spot where the 


UPON THE HEIGHTS 


8 i 


three ridges diverged they walked into a belt of drifting 
mist. The peak above them was suddenly blotted 
out, and Evelyn bade Vane hail Carroll and Mabel, 
who had disappeared. He sent a shout ringing 
through the vapor, and caught a faint and unintelligi¬ 
ble answer. A flock of sheep fled past and dislodged 
a rush of sliding stones. Vane heard the stones 
rattle far down the hillside, and when he called again 
a blast of chilly wind whirled his voice away. There 
was a faint echo above him and then silence. 

It looks as if they were out of hearing; and the 
slope ahead of us seems uncommonly steep by the 
way those stones went down. Do you think Mabel 
has taken Carroll down the Stanghyll ridge ? ’’ 

I can’t tell,” answered Evelyn. It’s comforting 
to remember that she knows it better than I do. I 
think we ought to make for the Hause; there’s only 
one place that’s really steep. Keep up to the left a 
little; the Scale Crags must be close beneath us.” 

They moved on circumspectly, skirting what seemed 
to be a pit of profound depth in which dim vapors 
whirled, while the rain, growing thicker, beat into 
their faces. 


CHAPTER VII 


STORM-STAYED 


HE weather was not the only thing that 



troubled Vane as he stumbled on through the 
mist. Any unathletic tourist from the cities could 
have gone up without much difficulty by the way 
they had ascended, but it was different coming down 
on the opposite side of the mountain. There, their 
route led across banks of sharp-pointed stones that 
rested lightly on the steep slope, interspersed with 
outcropping rocks which were growing dangerously 
slippery, and a wilderness of crags pierced by three 
great radiating chasms lay beneath. 

After half-an-hour’s arduous scramble, he decided 
that they must be close upon the top of the last rift, 
and he stood still for a minute looking about him. 
The mist was now so thick that he could see scarcely 
thirty yards ahead, but the way it drove past him indi¬ 
cated that it was blowing up a hollow. On one hand 
a rampart of hillside loomed dimly out of it; in front 
there was a dark patch that looked like the face of 
a dripping rock; and between that and the hill a 
boggy stretch of grass ran back into the vapor. Vane 
glanced at his companion with some concern. Her 
skirt was heavy with moisture and the rain dripped 
from the brim of her hat, but she smiled at him 
reassuringly. 


82 


STORM-STAYED 


83 

It’s not the first time I’ve got wet,” she said cheer- 
ingly; “ and you’re not responsible — it’s Mopsy’s 
fault.” 

Vane felt relieved on one account. He had imag¬ 
ined that a woman hated to feel draggled and untidy, 
and he was willing to own that in his case fatigue 
usually tended toward shortness of temper. Though 
the scramble had scarcely taxed his powers, he fan¬ 
cied that Evelyn had already done as much as one 
could expect of her. 

“ I must prospect about a bit. Scardale’s some¬ 
where below us; but, if I remember, it’s an awkward 
descent to the head of it; and I’m not sure of the 
right entrance to the Hause.” 

‘‘ I’ve only once been down this way, and that was 
a long while ago,” Evelyn replied. 

Vane left her and plodded away across the grass, 
sinking ankle-deep in the spongy moss among the 
roots of it. When he had grown scarcely distin¬ 
guishable in the haze he turned and waved his hand. 

I know where we are — almost to the head of the 
beck! ” he called. 

Evelyn joined him at the edge of a trickle of water 
splashing in a peaty hollow, and they followed it down, 
seeing only odd strips of hillside amid the vapor. At 
length the ground grew softer, and Vane, going first, 
sank among the long green moss almost to his knees. 
It made a bubbling, sucking sound as he drew out his 
feet. 

That won’t do! Stand still, please! I’ll try a 
little to the right.” 

He tried in one or two directions; but wherever he 
went he sank over his boots. Coming back he in- 


84 VANE OF THE TIMBERLANDS 

formed his companion that they would better go 
straight ahead. 

“ I know there’s no bog worth speaking of — the 
Hause is a regular tourist track.” 

He stopped and stripped off his jacket. 

‘‘First of all, you must put this on; I’m sorry I 
didn’t think of it before.” 

Evelyn demurred, and Vane rolled up the jacket. 

“ You have to choose between doing what I ask 
and watching me pitch it into the beck. I’m a 
rather determined person. It would be a pity to 
throw the thing away, particularly as the rain hasn’t 
got through it yet.” 

She yielded, and he held the jacket while she put it 
on. 

“ There’s another thing,” he added. “ I’m going 
to carry you for the next hundred yards, or possibly 
farther.” 

“ No,” replied Evelyn fiiTnly. “ On that point, 
my determination is as strong as yours.” 

Vane made a sign of acquiescence. 

“You may have your way for a minute; I expect 
that will be long enough.” 

He was correct. Evelyn moved forward a pace 
or two, and then stopped with the skirt she had 
gathered up brushing the quivering emerald moss, 
and her boots, which were high ones, hidden in the 
mire. She had some difficulty in pulling them out. 
Then Vane coolly picked her up. 

“ All you have to do is to keep still for the next 
few minutes,” he informed her in a most matter-of- 
fact voice. 

Evelyn did not move, though she recognized that 


STORM-STAYED 85 

had he shown any sign of self-conscious hesitation 
she would at once have shaken herself loose. As it 
was, the fact that he appeared perfectly at ease and 
unaware that he was doing anything unusual was 
reassuring. Then as he plodded forward she won¬ 
dered at his steadiness, for she remembered that when 
she had once fallen heavily when nailing up a 
clematis her father, who was a vigorous man, had 
found it difficult to carry her upstairs. Vane had 
never carried any woman in his arms before, but he 
had occasionally had to pack — as it is termed in the 
West — hundred-and-forty-pound flour bags over a 
rocky portage, and, though the comparison did not 
strike him as a happy one, he thought the girl was 
not quite so heavy as that. He was conscious of 
a curious thrill and a certain stirring of his blood, but 
this, he decided, must be sternly ignored. His task 
was not an easy one, and he stumbled once or twice, 
but he accomplished it and set the girl down safely on 
firmer ground. 

‘‘ Now,’' he said, '' there’s only the drop to the 
dale, but we must endeavor to keep out of the beck.” 

His voice and air were unembarrassed, though he 
was breathless, and Evelyn fancied that in this and 
the incident of the jacket he had at last revealed the 
forceful, natural manners of the West. It was the 
first glimpse she had had of them, and she was not 
displeased. The man had merely done what was most 
advisable, with practical sense. 

A little farther on, a shoot of falling water swept 
out of the mist above and came splashing down a 
crag, spread out in frothing threads. It flowed 
across their path, reunited in a deep gully, and then fell 


86 VANE OF THE TIMBERLANDS 


tumultuously into the beck, which was now ten or 
twelve feet below them. They clung to the rock as 
they traced it downward, stepping cautiously from 
ledge to ledge and from slippery stone to stone. At 
times a stone plunged into the mist beneath them, and 
Vane grasped the girl’s arm and held out a steadying 
hand, but he was never fussy nor needlessly concerned. 
When she wanted help, it was offered at the right 
moment; but that was all. Had she been alarmed, 
her companion’s manner would have been more com¬ 
forting than persistent solicitude. He was, she de¬ 
cided, one who could be relied upon in an emergency. 

“ You are sure-footed,” she remarked, when they 
stopped a minute or two for breath. 

Vane laughed as he glanced into the vapor-filled 
depths beneath. They stood on a ledge two or three 
yards in width, with a tall crag behind them and the 
beck, which had rapidly grown larger, leaping half 
seen from rock to rock in the rift in front. 

“ I was born among these fells; and I have helped 
to pack various kinds of mining truck over much 
rougher mountains.” 

'' Have you ever gone up as steep a place as this 
with a load ? ” 

If I remember rightly, the top of the Hause 
drops about three hundred feet, and we’ll probably 
spend half an hour in reaching the valley. There 
was one western divide that it took us several days to 
cross, dragging a tent, camp gear and provisions in 
relays. Its foot was wrapped in tangled brush that 
tore most of our clothes to rags, and the last pitch 
was two thousand feet of rock where the snow lay 
waist-deep in the hollows.” 


STORM-STAYED 


87 

“Two thousand feet! That dwarfs our little drop 
to the Hause. What were you doing so far up in the 
ranges? ” 

“ Looking for a copper mine.” 

“ And you found one ? ” 

“No; not that time. As a rule, the mineral trail 
leads poor men to greater poverty, and sometimes to 
a grave; but once you have set your feet on it you 
follow it again. The thing becomes an obsession; you 
feel forced to go.” 

“Even if you bring nothing back?” 

Vane laughed. 

“ One always brings back something — frost-bite, 
bruises, a bag of specimens that assayers and mineral 
development men smile at. They’re the palpable 
results, but in most cases you pick up an intangible 
something else.” 

“ And that is ? ” 

“ A thing beyond definition. A germ that lies in 
wait in the lonely places and breeds fantasies when 
it gets into your blood. Anyway, you can never quite 
get rid of it.” 

Evelyn was interested. The man was endowed 
with a trick of quaint and almost poetical imagination, 
which she had not suspected him of possessing. 

“ It conduces to unrest? ” she suggested. 

“ Yes. One feels that there’s a rich claim waiting 
beyond the thick timber through which one can hardly 
scramble, across the icy rivers, or over the snow-line.” 

“ But you found one.” 

“ At last I found' it easily. After ranging the 
wildest solitudes, we struck it in a sheltered valley 
near the warm west coast. Curious, isn’t it ? ” 


88 VANE OF THE TIMBERLANDS 


'' But didn’t that banish the unrest and leave you 
satisfied? ” 

The man looked at her with a flicker of grim amuse¬ 
ment in his eyes. 

“ As I explained, it can’t be banished. There’s al¬ 
ways a richer claim somewhere that you haven’t 
found. Our prospectors dream of it as the Mother 
Lode, and some spend half their lives in search of it; 
it was called El Dorado three hundred years ago. 
After all, the idea’s a deeper thing than a miner’s 
fantasy ; in one shape or another it’s inherent in opti¬ 
mistic human nature. Are you sure the microbe 
hasn’t bitten you and Mopsy ? ” 

He was too shrewd. Turning from him, she 
looked down at the eddying mist. For several years 
she had chafed at her surroundings and the restraints 
they laid upon her, with a restless longing for some¬ 
thing wider and better: a freer, sunnier atmosphere 
where her nature could expand. At times she fan¬ 
cied there was only one sun which could warm it to 
a perfect growth, but that sun had not risen and 
scarcely seemed likely to do so. 

Vane broke the silence deprecatingly. 

‘‘ Now that you’re rested, we’d better get on. I’m 
sorry I’ve kept you so long.” 

Though caution was still necessary, the rest of 
the descent was easier, and after a while they reached 
a winding dale. They followed it downward, splash¬ 
ing through water part of the time, and at length 
came into sight of a cluster of little houses standing 
between a river and a big flr wood. 

“ It must be getting on toward evening. Mopsy 
and Carroll probably went down the ridge, and as it 


STORM-STAYED 89 

runs out lower down the valley, they’ll be almost at 
home.” 

“ It’s six o’clock,” replied Vane, glancing at his 
watch. “ You can’t walk home in the rain, and it’s 
a long while since lunch. If Adam Bell and his wife 
are still at the Golden Fleece, we’ll get something to 
eat there and borrow you some dry clothes. I’ve no 
doubt he’ll drive us back afterward.” 

Evelyn made no objections. She was very wet 
and was beginning to feel weary, and they were some 
distance from home. She returned his jacket, and a 
few minutes later they entered an old hostelry which, 
like many others among those hills, was a farm as 
well as an inn. The landlady recognized Vane with 
pleased surprise. When she had attended to Evelyn 
she provided Vane with some of her husband’s 
clothes. Then she lighted a fire; and when she had 
laid out a meal in the guest-room, Evelyn came in, 
attired in a dress of lilac print. 

“ It’s Maggie Bell’s,” she explained demurely. 

Her mother’s things were rather large. Adam is 
away at a sheep auction, and they have only the trap 
he went in; but they expect him back in an hour or 
so.” 

‘‘ Then we must wait,” smiled Vane. '' Worse mis¬ 
fortunes have befallen me.” 

They made an excellent meal, and then Vane drew 
up a wicker chair to the fire for Evelyn and sat down 
opposite her. The room was low and shadowy, and 
partly paneled. Against one wall stood a black oak 
sideboard, with a plate-rack above it, and a great chest 
of the same material with ponderous hand-forged 
hinge-straps stood opposite it. A clock with an en- 


90 VANE OF THE TIMBERLANDS 

graved metal dial and a six-foot case, polished to a 
wonderful luster by the hands of several genera¬ 
tions, ticked in one corner; and here and there the 
firelight flickered upon utensils of burnished copper. 
There was little in the place that looked less than a 
century old, for there are nooks in the North that 
have still escaped the ravages of the collector. Out¬ 
side, the rain dripped from the massy flagstone 
eaves, and the song of the river stole in monotonous 
cadence into the room. 

Evelyn was silent and Vane said nothing for a 
while. He had been in the air all day, and though 
this was nothing new to him he was content to sit 
lazily still and leave the opening of conversation to 
his companion. In the meanwhile it was pleasant 
to glance toward her now and then. The pale- 
tinted dress became her, and he felt that the room 
would have looked less cheerful had she been away; 
though this by no means comprised the whole of his 
sensations. After living almost entirely among men, 
he had of late met three women who had impressed 
him in different ways, and they had all been pleasant 
to look upon. 

First, there was Kitty Blake, little, graceful and, 
in a way, alluring; and it was she who had first 
roused in him a vague desire for a companion who 
could be more to him than a man could be. Beyond 
that, pretty as she was, she had only moved him to 
chivalrous pity and a wider sympathy. 

Then he had met Jessy Horsfield, whom he ad¬ 
mired. She was a clever woman and a handsome one, 
but she had scarcely stirred him at all. 

Last, he had met Evelyn, as well endowed with 


STORM-STAYED 


91 


physical charm as either; and there was no doubt 
that the effect she had on him was different again. 
It was one that was difficult to analyze, though he 
lazily tried. She appealed to him by the grace of her 
carriage, the poise of her head, her delicate coloring, 
and the changing lights in her eyes; but behind these 
points there was something stronger and deeper ex¬ 
pressed through them. He fancied that she possessed 
qualities he had not hitherto encountered, which would 
become more precious when they were fully under¬ 
stood. He thought of her as steadfast and whole¬ 
some in mind; one who sought for the best; but beyond 
this there was an ethereal something that could not be 
defined. Then a simile struck him: she was like the 
snow that towered high into the empyrean in British 
Columbia. In this, however, he was wrong, for there 
was warm human passion in the girl, though as yet it 
was sleeping. 

He realized suddenly that he was getting absurdly 
sentimental, and instinctively he fumbled for his pipe, 
then stopped. Evelyn noticed this and smiled. 

“ You needn’t hesitate. The Dene is redolent of 
cigars, and Gerald smokes everywhere when he is at 
home.” 

“ Is he likely to turn up? ” Vane asked. “ It’s ever 
so long since I’ve seen him.” 

I’m afraid not. In fact, Gerald’s rather under 
a cloud just now. I may as well tell you this, because 
you are sure to hear of it sooner or later. He has 
been extravagant and, so he assures us, extraordinarily 
unlucky.” 

“Stocks?” suggested Vane. He was acquainted 
with some of the family tendencies. 


92 VANE OF THE TIMBERLANDS 

Evelyn hesitated a moment. 

‘‘ That would more readily have been forgiven him. 
I believe he has speculated on the turf as well.’’ 

Vane was surprised. He understood that Gerald 
Chisholm was a barrister, and betting on the turf was 
not an amusement he would have associated with that 
profession. 

‘‘ I must run up and see him by and by,” he said 
thoughtfully. 

Evelyn felt sorry she had spoken. Gerald needed 
help, which his father was not in a position to offer. 
Evelyn was not censorious of other people’s faults, 
but it was impossible to be blind to some aspects of 
her brother’s character, and she would have preferred 
that Vane should not meet Gerald while the latter was 
embarrassed by financial difficulties. She abruptly 
changed the subject. 

“ Several of the things you have told me about 
your life in Canada interest me. It must have been 
bracing to feel that you depended upon your own 
efforts and stood on your own feet, free from the 
hampering customs that are common here.” 

“ The position has its disadvantages. You have no 
family influence behind you — nothing to fall back 
on. If you can’t make good your footing, you must 
go down. It’s curious that just before I came over 
here, a lady I met in Vancouver expressed an opinion 
very much like yours. She said it must be pleasant 
to feel that one is, to some extent at least, master of 
one’s fate.” 

‘‘ Then she merely explained my meaning more 
clearly than I have done.” 

One could have imagined that she had everything 


STORM-STAYED 


93 


she could reasonably wish for. If I’m not trans¬ 
gressing, so have you. It’s strange you should both 
harbor the same idea.” 

Evelyn smiled. 

‘‘ I don’t think it’s uncommon among young women 
nowadays. There’s a grandeur in the thought that 
one’s fate lies in the hands of the high unseen Powers; 
but to allow one’s life to be molded by the prejudices 
and preconceptions of one’s — neighbors is a different 
matter. Besides, if unrest and human striving were 
sent, was it only that they should be repressed ? ” 

Vane sat silent a moment or two. He had noticed 
the brief pause and fancied that she had changed one 
of the words that followed it. He did not think that 
it was the opinions of her neighbors against which 
she chafed most. 

It’s something that I’ve never experienced,” he 
replied at length. “ In a general way, I’ve done what 
I wanted.” 

“ Which is a privilege that is denied us.” 

Evelyn spoke without bitterness. 

“ What do women who are left to their own re¬ 
sources do in western Canada ? ” she asked presently. 

‘‘Some of them marry; I suppose that’s the most 
natural thing,” answered Vane, with an air of reflec¬ 
tion that amused her. “ Anyway, they have plenty of 
opportunities. There’s a preponderating number of 
unattached young men in the newly opened parts of 
the Dominion.” 

“ Things are different here; or perhaps we require 
more than they do across the Atlantic. What becomes 
of the others? ” 

“ They are waitresses in the hotels; they learn ste- 


94 VANE OF THE TIMBERLANDS 

nography and typewriting, and go into offices and 
stores.’’ 

“And earn just enough to live upon meagerly? 
If their wages are high, they must pay out more. 
That follows, doesn’t it?” 

“ To some extent.” 

“ Is there nothing better open to them ? ” 

“ No; not unless they’re trained for it and become 
specialized. That implies peculiar abilities and a sys¬ 
tematic education with one end in view. You can’t 
enter the arena to fight for the higher prizes unless 
you’re properly armed. The easiest way for a woman 
to acquire power and influence is by a judicious mar¬ 
riage. No doubt, it’s the same here.” 

“ It is,” laughed Evelyn. “ A man is more for¬ 
tunately situated.” 

“Probably; but if he’s poor, he’s rather walled in, 
too. He breaks through now and then; and in the 
newer countries he gets an opportunity.” 

Vane abstractedly examined his pipe, which he had 
not lighted yet. It was clear that the girl was dis¬ 
satisfied with her surroundings, and had for some 
reason temporarily relaxed the restraint she generally 
laid upon herself; but he felt that, if she were wise, 
she would force herself to be content. She was of 
too fine a fiber to plunge into the struggle that many 
women had to wage. Though he did not doubt her 
courage, she had not been trained for it. He had 
noticed that among men it was the cruder and less 
developed organizations that proved hardiest in ad¬ 
verse situations; one needed a strain of primitive vigor. 
There was, it seemed, only one means of release for 
Evelyn, and that was a happy marriage. But a mar- 


STORM-STAYED 


95 


riage could not be happy unless the suitor should be 
all that she desired; and Evelyn would be fastidious, 
though her family would, no doubt, look only for 
wealth and station. Vane imagined that this was 
where the trouble lay, and he felt a protective pity for 
her. He would wait and keep his eyes open. 

Presently there was a rattle of wheels outside and 
the landlord came in and greeted them with rude cor¬ 
diality. Shortly afterward Vane helped Evelyn into 
the rig, and Bell drove them home through the rain. 


CHAPTER VIII 


LUCY VANE 

B right sunshine streamed down out of a cloud¬ 
less sky one afternoon shortly after the ascent 
of the Pike. Vane stood talking with his sister upon 
the terrace in front of the Dene. He leaned against 
the low wall, frowning, for Lucy hitherto had avoided 
a discussion of the subject which occupied their at¬ 
tention, and now, as he would have said, he could not 
make her listen to reason. 

She stood in front of him, with the point of 
her parasol pressed firmly into the gravel and her 
lips set, though in her eyes there was a smile which 
suggested forbearance. Lucy was tall and spare of 
figure; a year younger than her brother; and of some¬ 
what determined and essentially practical character. 
She earned her living in a northern manufacturing 
town by lecturing on domestic economy, for the public 
authorities. Vane understood that she also received 
a small stipend as secretary to some women’s organi¬ 
zation and that she took a part in suffrage propa¬ 
ganda. She had a thin, forceful face, seldom charac¬ 
terized by repose. 

‘‘ After all,” Vane broke out, ‘‘ what I’m urging is 
a very natural thing. I don’t like to think of your be¬ 
ing forced to work as you are doing, and I’ve tried 
to show you that it wouldn’t cost me any self-denial 
to make you an allowance. There’s no reason why 


LUCY VANE 


97 

you should be at the beck and call of those committees 
any longer.” 

Lucy’s smile grew plainer. 

“ I don’t think that quite describes my position.” 

‘‘ It’s possible,” Vane agreed with a trace of dry¬ 
ness. “ No doubt, you insist that the chairman or 
lady president give way to you; but this doesn’t affect 
the question. You have to work, anyway.” 

But I like it; and it keeps me in some degree of 
comfort.” 

The man turned impatiently and glanced about him. 
The front of the old gray house was flooded with 
light, and the mossy sward below the terrace glowed 
luminously green. The shadows of the hollies and 
cypresses were thin and unsubstantial, but where a 
beech overarched the grass, Evelyn and Mrs. Chisholm, 
attired in light draperies, reclined in basket chairs. 
Carroll, in thin gray tweed, stood near them, talking 
to Mabel, and Chisholm sat on a bench with a news¬ 
paper in his hand. He looked half asleep, and a 
languorous stillness pervaded the whole scene. Be¬ 
yond it, the tarn shone dazzlingly, and in the distance 
ranks of rugged fells towered, dim and faintly blue. 
All that the eye rested on spoke of an unbroken tran¬ 
quillity. 

‘‘Wouldn’t you like this kind of thing, as well?” 
Vane asked. “ Of course, I mean what it implies — 
the power to take life easy and get as much enjoyment 
as possible out of it. It wouldn’t be difficult, if you’d 
only take what I’d be glad to give you.” He indicated 
the languid figures in the foreground. “ You could, 
for instance, spend your time among people of this 
sort. After all, it’s what you were meant to do.” 


98 VANE OF THE TIMBERLANDS 

Would that appeal to you?-’’ 

Oh, I like it in the meantime,” he evaded. 

Well,” Lucy returned curtly, ‘‘ I believe I’m more 
at home with the other kind of people — those in 
poverty, squalor and ignorance. I’ve an idea that they 
have a stronger claim on me; but that’s not a point 
I can urge. The fact is. I’ve chosen my career, and 
there are practical reasons why I shouldn’t abandon 
it. I had a good deal of trouble in getting a footing, 
and if I fell out now, it would be harder still to take 
my place in the ranks again.” 

‘‘ But you wouldn’t require to do so.” 

I can’t be sure. I don’t want to hurt you; but, 
after all, your success was sudden, and one under¬ 
stands that it isn’t wise to depend on an income de¬ 
rived from mining properties.” 

Vane frowned. 

“ None of you ever did believe in me! ” 

‘‘ I suppose there’s some truth in that. You really 
did give us trouble, you know. Somehow, you were 
different — you wouldn’t fit in; though I believe the 
same thing applied to me, for that matter.” 

And now you don’t expect my prosperity to last? ” 

The girl hesitated, but she was candid by nature. 

“ Perhaps I’d better answer. You have it in you 
to work determinedly and, when it’s necessary, to do 
things that men with less courage would shrink from; 
but I’m doubtful whether yours is the temperament 
that leads to success. You haven’t the huckster’s in¬ 
stincts; you’re not cold-blooded enough; you wouldn’t 
cajole your friends nor truckle to your enemies.” 

“ If I adopted the latter course, it would certainly 
be against the grain,” Vane confessed. 


LUCY VANE 


99 


Lucy laughed. 

“Well, I mean to go on earning my living; but 
you may take me up to London for a few days, if 
you want to, and buy me some hats and things. Then 
I don’t mind your giving something to the Emanci¬ 
pation Society.” 

“ I am not sure that I believe in emancipation; but 
you may have ten guineas.” 

“ Thank you.” 

Lucy glanced around toward Carroll, who was ap¬ 
proaching them with Mabel. 

“ I’ll give you a piece of advice,” she added. “ Stick 
to that man. He’s cooler and less headstrong than 
you are; he’ll prove a useful friend.” 

“ What are you two talking about ? ” asked Carroll. 
“ You look animated.” 

“ Wallace has just promised me ten guineas to as¬ 
sist the movement for the emancipation of women,” 
Lucy answered pointedly. “ Our society’s efforts are 
sadly restricted by the lack of funds.” 

“ Vane is now and then a little inconsequential in 
his generosity,” Carroll rejoined. “ I didn’t know he 
was interested in that kind of thing; but as I don’t like 
to be outdone by my partner. I’ll subscribe the same. 
By the way, why do you people reckon these things 
in guineas? ” 

“ Thanks,” smiled Lucy, making an entry in a note¬ 
book in a businesslike manner. “ As you said it was 
a subscription, you’ll hear from us next year. In 
answer to your question, it’s an ancient custom, 
and it has the advantage that you get in the extra shil¬ 
lings.” 

They strolled along the terrace together, and as 


100 VANE OF THE TIMBERLANDS 


they went down the steps to the lawn Carroll turned 
to her with a smile. 

“ Have you tackled Chisholm yet ? ” 

I never waste powder and shot/’ Lucy replied 
tersely. ‘‘ A man of his restricted views would sooner 
subscribe handsomely to a movement to put us 
down.” 

‘‘Are you regretting the ten guineas, Vane? ” Car- 
roll questioned laughingly. “ You don’t look pleased.” 

“ The fact is, I wanted to do something that wasn’t 
allowed. I’ve met with the same disillusionment here 
as I did in British Columbia.” 

Lucy looked up at her brother. 

“ Did you attempt to give somebody money there? ” 

“ I did. It’s not worth discussing; and, anyway, 
she wouldn’t listen to me.” 

They strolled on, Vane frowning, while Carroll, 
noticing signs of suppressed interest in Lucy’s face, 
smiled unobserved. Neither he nor the others thought 
of Mabel, who was following them. 

Some time after they joined the others, Carroll lay 
back in a deep chair, with his half-closed eyes turned 
in Lucy’s direction. 

“ Are you asleep, or thinking hard ? ” Mrs. Chis¬ 
holm asked him. 

“ Not more than half asleep,” he laughed. “ I was 
trying to remember A Dream of Fair Women. It’s a 
suitable occupation for a drowsy summer afternoon 
in a place like this, but I must confess that it was Miss 
Vane who put it into my head. She reminded me of 
one or two of the heroines when she was championing 
the cause of the suffragist.” 

“ You mustn’t imagine that Englishwomen in gen- 


LUCY VANE loi 

eral sympathize with her, or that such ideas are popu¬ 
lar at the Dene.” 

Carroll smiled reassuringly. 

** I shouldn’t have imagined the latter for a mo¬ 
ment. But, as I said, on an afternoon of this kind 
one may be excused for indulging in romantic fancies. 
Don’t you see what brought those old-time heroines 
into my mind? I mean the elusive resemblance to 
their latter-day prototype ? ” 

Mrs. Chisholm looked puzzled. 

No,” she declared. “ One of them was Greek, 
another early English, and the finest of all was the 
Hebrew maid. As they couldn’t have been like one 
another, how could they, collectively, have borne a re¬ 
semblance to anybody else ? ” 

‘‘ That’s logical, on the surface. To digress, why 
do you most admire Jephthah’s daughter, the gentle 
Gileadite? ” 

His hostess affected surprise. 

“ Isn’t it evident, when one remembers her patient 
sacrifice; her fine sense of family honor? ” 

Carroll felt that this was much the kind of sentiment 
one could have expected from her; and he did her the 
justice to believe that it was genuine and that she was 
capable of living up to her convictions. His glance 
rested on Vane for a moment, and the latter was 
startled as he guessed Carroll’s thought. 

Evelyn sat near him, reclining languidly in a wicker 
chair. She had been silent, and now that her face 
was in repose the signs of reserve and repression were 
plainer than ever. There was, however, pride in it, 
and Vane felt that she was endowed with a keener 
and finer sense of family honor than her thin-lipped 


102 VANE OF THE TIMBERLANDS 


mother. Her brother’s career was threatened by the 
results of his own imprudence, and though her father 
could hardly be compared with the Gileadite warrior, 
there was, Vane fancied, a disturbing similarity be¬ 
tween the two cases. It was unpleasant to contem¬ 
plate the possibility of this girl’s being called upon to 
bear the cost of her relatives’ misfortunes or follies. 

Carroll looked across at Lucy with a smile. 

You won’t agree with Mrs. Chisholm?” he sug¬ 
gested. 

No,” answered Lucy firmly. “ Leaving out the 
instance in question, there are too many people who 
transgress and then expect somebody else — a woman, 
generally — to serve as a sacrifice.” 

‘‘ I don’t agree, either,” Mabel broke in. I’d 
sooner have been Cleopatra, or Joan of Arc — only 
she was burned, poor thing.” 

That was only what she might have expected. An 
unpleasant fate generally overtakes people who go 
about disturbing things,” Mrs. Chisholm said severely. 

The speech was characteristic, and the others smiled. 
It would have astonished them had Mrs. Chisholm 
sympathized with the rebel idealist whose beckoning 
visions led to the clash of arms. 

Aren’t you getting off the track,” Vane asked Car- 
roll. “ I don’t see the drift of your previous re¬ 
marks.” 

Well,” drawled Carroll, “ there must be, I think, 
a certain distinctive stamp upon those who belong to 
the leader type — I mean the people who are capable 
of doing striking and heroic things. Apart from this, 
I’ve been studying you English — I’ve been over here 
before — and it has struck me that there’s occasionally 


LUCY VANE 


103 

something imperious, or rather imperial, in the faces 
of your women in the most northern counties. I can’t 
define the thing, but it’s there — in the line of 
nose, in the mouth, and, I think, most marked in the 
brows. It’s not Saxon, nor Norse, nor Danish; I’d 
sooner call it Roman.” 

Vane was slightly astonished. He had seen that 
look in Evelyn’s face, and now, for the first time, 
he recognized it in his sister’s. 

‘‘ Perhaps you have hit it,” he said with a laugh. 
‘‘You can reach the Wall from here in a day’s 
ride.” 

“ The Wall?” 

“ The Roman Wall; Hadrian’s Wall. I believe one 
authority states that they had a garrison of one hun¬ 
dred thousand men to keep it.” 

Chisholm joined the group. He was a tall, rather 
florid-faced man, with a formal manner, and was 
dressed immaculately in creaseless clothes. 

“ The point Wallace raises is interesting,” he re¬ 
marked. “ While I don’t know how long it takes 
for a strain to die out, there must have been a large 
civil population living near the Wall, and we know 
that the characteristics of the Teutonic peoples who 
followed the Romans still remain. On the other hand, 
some of the followers were vexillaries, from the bounds 
of the Empire; Gauls, for example, or Iberians.” 

When, later on, the group broke up, Evelyn was 
left alone for a few minutes with Mabel. 

“ Gerald should have been sent to Canada instead 
of to Oxford,” the younger girl declared. “ Then he 
might have got as rich as Wallace Vane and Mr. Car- 
roll.” 


104 VANE OF THE TIMBERLANDS 

“ What makes you think theyVe rich ? ” Evelyn 
asked with reproof in her tone. 

Mabel grimaced. 

“ Oh, we all knew they were rich before they came. 
They were giving Lucy guineas for the suffragists an 
hour ago. They must have a good deal of money 
to waste it like that. Besides, I think Wallace wanted 
her to take some more; and he seemed quite vexed 
when he said he’d tried to give money to somebody 
else in Canada who wouldn’t have it. As he said 
‘ she,’ it must have been a woman, but I don’t think 
he meant to mention that. It slipped out.” 

You had no right to listen,” Evelyn retorted se¬ 
verely; but the information sank into her mind, and 
she afterward remembered it. 

She rose- when the sunshine, creeping farther across 
the grass, fell upon her, and Vane carried her chair, 
as well as those of the others, who were strolling back 
toward them, into the shadow. This she thought was 
typical of the man. He seemed happiest when he was 
doing something. By and by a chance remark of her 
mother’s once more set Carroll to discoursing humor¬ 
ously. 

‘‘ After all,” he contended, ‘‘ it’s difficult to obey a 
purely arbitrary rule of conduct. Several of the phi¬ 
losophers seem to have decided that the origin of virtue 
is utility.” 

“Utility?” Chisholm queried. 

“ Yes; utility to one’s neighbors or the community 
at large. For instance, I desire an apple growing on 
somebody else’s tree — one of the big red apples that 
hang over the roadside in Ontario. Now the longing 
for the fruit is natural, and innocent in itself; the 


LUCY VANE 


los 


trouble is that if it were indulged in and gratified by 
every person who passed along the road, the farmer 
would abandon the cultivation of his orchard. He 
would neither plant nor prune his trees, except for 
the expectation of enjoying what they yield. The 
offense, accordingly, concerns everybody who enjoys 
apples.” 

Mrs. Chisholm smiled assent. 

‘‘ I believe that idea is the basis of our minor 
social and domestic codes. Even when they’re illog¬ 
ical in particular cases, they’re necessary in general.” 

Evelyn looked across at Vane, as if to invite his 
opinion, and he knit his brows. 

‘‘ I don’t think Carroll’s correct. The traditional 
view, which, as I understand it, is that the sense of 
right is innate, ingrained in man’s nature, seems more 
reasonable. I’ll give you two instances. There was 
a man in charge of a little mine. He had had the 
crudest education, and no moral training, but he was 
an excellent miner. Well, he was given a hint that 
it was not desirable the mine should turn out much 
paying ore.” 

“ But why wasn’t it required to produce as much 
as possible ? ” Evelyn asked. 

I believe that somebody wanted to break down 
the value of the shares and afterward quietly buy 
them up. Anyway, though he knew it would result 
in his dismissal, the man I mentioned drove the boys 
his hardest. He worked savagely, taking risks he 
could have avoided by spending a little more time in 
precautions, in a badly timbered tunnel. He didn’t 
reason — he was hardly capable of it — but he got the 
most out of the mine.” 


io6 VANE OF THE TLMBERLANDS 


“ It was fine of him! ” Evelyn exclaimed. 

“ The engineer of a collier figures in the next case,” 
Vane went on. “ The engines were clumsy and badly 
finished, but the man spent his care and labor on them 
until I think he loved them. His only trouble was 
that he was sent to sea with second-rate oils and 
stores. After a while they grew so bad that he could 
hardly use them; and he had reasons for believing that 
a person who could dismiss or promote him was get¬ 
ting a big commission on the goods. He was a plain, 
unreasoning man; but he would not cripple his engines; 
and at last he condemned the stores and made the 
skipper purchase supplies he could use, at double the 
usual prices, in a foreign port. There could be only 
one result; he was driving a pump in a mine when I 
last met him.” 

He paused, and added quietly: 

“ It wasn’t logic, it wasn’t even conventional moral¬ 
ity, that impelled these men. It was something that 
was part of them. What’s more, men of their type are 
more common than the cynics believe.” 

Carroll smiled good-humoredly; and when the party 
sauntered toward the house, he walked beside Evelyn. 

“ There’s one point that Wallace omitted to men¬ 
tion in connection with his tales,” he remarked. “ The 
things he narrated are precisely those which, on being 
given the opportunity, he would have pleasure in do¬ 
ing himself.” 

Why pleasure ? I could understand his doing 
them, but I’d expect him to feel some reluctance.” 

Carroll’s eyes twinkled. 

‘‘ He gets indignant now and then. Virtuous people 
are generally content to resist temptation, but Wallace 


LUCY VANE 


107 

is apt to attack the tempter. I dare say it isn’t wise, 
but that’s the kind of man he is.” 

“ Ah! One couldn’t find fault with the type. But 
I wonder why you have taken the trouble to tell me 
this?” 

“ Really, I don’t know. Somehow, I have an im¬ 
pression that I ought to say what I can in Wallace’s 
favor, if only because he brought me here, and I feel 
like talking when I can get a sympathetic listener.” 

‘‘ I shouldn’t have imagined the latter was indis¬ 
pensable,” laughed Evelyn. Is this visit all you owe 
Wallace?” 

“ No, indeed. In many ways, I owe him a good 
deal more. He has no idea of this, but it doesn’t 
lessen my obligation. By the way, it struck me that 
in many respects Miss Vane is rather like her brother.” 

“ Lucy is opinionative, and now and then embar¬ 
rassingly candid, but she leads a life that most of 
us would shrink from. It isn’t necessary that she 
should do so — family friends would have arranged 
things differently — and the tasks she’s paid for are 
less than half her labors. I believe she generally gets 
abuse as a reward for the rest.” 

Then Mabel joined them and took possession of 
Carroll, and Evelyn strolled on alone, thinking of what 
he had told her. 


CHAPTER IX 


CHISHOLM PROVES AMENABLE 

ANE Spent a month at the Dene, with quiet sat- 



V isfaction, and when at last he left for London 
and Paris he gladly promised to come back for another 
few weeks before he sailed for Canada. He stayed 
some time in Paris, because Carroll insisted on it, 
but it was with eagerness that he went north again 
late in the autumn. For one reason — and he laid 
some stress upon this — he longed for the moorland 
air and the rugged fells, though he admitted that 
Evelyn’s society enhanced their charm for him. 

At last, shortly before he set out on the journey, he 
took himself to task and endeavored to determine pre¬ 
cisely the nature of his feelings toward her; but he 
signally failed to elucidate the point. It was clear 
only that he was more contented in her presence, and 
that, apart from her physical comeliness, she had a 
stimulating effect upon his mental faculties. Then he 
wondered how she regarded him; and to this question 
he could find no answer. She had treated him with 
a quiet friendliness, and had to some extent taken 
him into her confidence. For the most part, however, 
there was a reserve about her that he found more 
piquant than deterrent, and he was conscious that, 
while willing to talk with him freely, she was still 
holding him off at arm’s length. 


io8 


CHISHOLM PROVES AMENABLE 109 

On the whole, he could not be absolutely sure that 
he desired to get much nearer. Though he failed to 
recognize this clearly, his attitude was largely one 
of respectful admiration, tinged with a vein of com¬ 
passion. Evelyn was unhappy, and out of harmony 
with her relatives; and he could understand this more 
readily because their ideas occasionally jarred on 
him. 

One morning, about a fortnight after they returned 
to the Dene, Vane and Carroll walked out of the 
hamlet where the wheelwright’s shop was. Sitting 
down on the wall of a bridge. Vane opened the tele¬ 
gram in his hand. 

‘‘ I think you have Nairn’s code in your wallet,” 
he said. “ We’ll decipher the thing.” 

Carroll laid the message on a smooth stone and set 
to work with a pencil. 

“Situation highly satisfactory/' 

He broke off, to chuckle a comment. 

It must be, if Nairn paid for an extra word — 
highly’s not in the code.” 

Then he went on with the deciphering: 

“Result of rediiction exceeds anticipations. Stock 
thirty premium. Your presence not immediately re¬ 
quired." 

“ That’s distinctly encouraging,” declared Vane. 
“ Now that they are getting farther in, the ore must 
be carrying more silver.” 

‘‘ It strikes me as fortunate. I ran through the bank 
account last night, and there’s no doubt that you have 
spent a good deal of money. It confirms my opinion 
that you have mighty expensive friends.” 

Vane frowned, but Carroll continued undeterred. 


no VANE OF THE TIMBERLANDS 


“ You want pulling up, after the way you have been 
indulging in a reckless extravagance which, I feel com¬ 
pelled to point out, is new to you. The check drawn 
in favor of Gerald Chisholm rather astonished me. 
Have you said anything about it to his relatives ? ” 

“ I haven’t.^’ 

** Then, judging by the little I saw of him, I should 
consider it most unlikely that he has made any allusion 
to the matter. The next check was even more sur¬ 
prising — I mean the one you gave his father.” 

They were both loans. Chisholm offered me se¬ 
curity.” 

“Unsalable stock, or a mortgage on property that 
carries another charge! Have you any idea of getting 
the money back ? ” 

“ What has that to do with you? ” 

Carroll spread out his hands. 

“ Only this: It strikes me that you need looking 
after. We can’t stay here indefinitely. Hadn’t you 
better get back to Vancouver before your English 
friends ruin you ? ” 

“ I’ll go in three or four weeks; not before.” 

Carroll sat silent a minute or two, and then looked 
his companion squarely in the face. 

“ Is it your intention to marry Evelyn Chisholm ? ” 

“ I don’t know what has put that into your mind.” 

“ I should be a good deal astonished if it hadn’t sug¬ 
gested itself to her family,” Carroll retorted. 

Vane looked thoughtful. 

“ I’m far from sure that it’s an idea they would 
entertain with any great favor. For one thing, I can’t 
live here.” 

Carroll laughed. 


CHISHOLM PROVES AMENABLE iii 


“ Try them, and see. Show them Nairn’s telegram 
when you mention the matter.” 

Vane swung himself down from the wall. During 
the past two weeks he had seen a good deal of Evelyn, 
and his regard for her had rapidly grown stronger. 
Now that news that his affairs were prospering had 
reached him, he suddenly made up his mind. 

** It’s very possible that I may do so,” he informed 
his comrade. “ We’ll get along.” 

His heart beat a little more rapidly than usual as 
they turned back toward the house, but he was per¬ 
fectly composed when some time later he sat down 
beside Chisholm, who was lounging away the morning 
on the lawn. 

‘‘ I’ve been across to the village for a telegram I 
expected,” he said, handing Chisholm the deciphered 
message. It occurred to me that you might be in¬ 
terested. The news is encouraging.” 

Chisholm read it with inward satisfaction. When 
he laid it down he had determined on the line he meant 
to follow. 

‘‘ You’re a fortunate man. There’s probably no 
reasonable wish that you can’t gratify.” 

“ There are things one can’t buy with money,” 
Vane replied. 

‘‘ That is very true. They’re often the most val¬ 
uable. On the other hand, some of them may now 
and then be had for the asking. Besides, when one 
has a sanguine temperament and a determination, it’s 
difficult to believe that anything one sets one’s heart 
on is quite unattainable.” 

Vane wondered whether he had been given a hint. 
Chisholm’s manner was suggestive, and Carroll’s re- 


112 VANE OF THE TIMBERLANDS 


marks had had an effect on him. He sat silent, and 
Chisholm continued: 

“ If I were in your place, I should feel that I had 
all that I could desire within my reach.” 

Vane was becoming sure that his comrade had 
been right. Chisholm would not have harped on 
the same idea unless he had intended to convey some 
particular meaning; but the man’s methods roused 
Vane’s dislike. He could face opposition, and he 
would rather have been discouraged than judiciously 
prompted. 

‘‘ Then if I offered myself as a suitor for Evelyn, 
you would not think me presumptuous? ” 

Chisholm was somewhat astonished at his abrupt¬ 
ness, but he smiled reassuringly. 

“ No; I can’t see why I should do so. You are in 
a position to maintain a wife in comfort, and I don’t 
think anybody could take exception to your character.” 
He paused a moment. I suppose you have some 
idea of how Evelyn regards you?” 

‘‘ Not the faintest. That’s the trouble.” 

Would you like Mrs. Chisholm or myself to men¬ 
tion the matter ? ” 

“ No,” answered Vane decidedly. “ In fact, I must 
ask you not to do anything of the kind. I only wished 
to make sure of your good will, and now that I’m 
satisfied on that point. I’d rather wait and speak — 
when it seems judicious.” 

Chisholm nodded. 

“ I dare say that would be wisest. There is noth¬ 
ing to be gained by being precipitate.” 

Vane thanked him, and waited. He fancied that the 
transaction — that seemed the best name for it — was 


CHISHOLM PROVES AMENABLE 113 

not completed yet; but he meant to leave the matter 
to his companion; he would not help the man. 

There’s something that had better be mentioned 
now, distasteful as it is,” Chisholm said at length. 
“ I can settle nothing upon Evelyn. As you must 
have guessed, my affairs are in a far from promising 
state. Indeed, I’m afraid I may have to ask your 
indulgence when the loan falls due; and I don’t mind 
confessing that the prospect of Evelyn’s making what 
I think is a suitable marriage is a relief to me.” 

Vane’s feelings were somewhat mixed, but contempt 
figured prominently among them. He could find no 
fault with Chisholm’s desire to safeguard his daughter’s 
future, but he was convinced that the man looked for 
more than this. He felt that he had been favored 
with a delicate hint to which his companion expected 
an answer. He was sorry for Evelyn, and was 
ashamed of the position he was forced to take. 

Well,” he replied curtly, you need not be con¬ 
cerned about the loan; I’m not likely to prove a press¬ 
ing creditor. To go a little farther, I should naturally 
take an interest in the welfare of my wife’s relatives. 
I don’t think I can say anything more in the mean¬ 
while.” 

When he saw Chisholm’s smile, he felt that he might 
have spoken more plainly without offense; but the 
elder man looked satisfied. 

Those are the views I expected you to hold,” he 
declared. “ I believe that Mrs. Chisholm will share 
my gratification if you find Evelyn disposed to listen 
to you.” 

Vane left him shortly afterward with a sense of 
shame. He felt that he had bought the girl, and that. 


114 VANE OF THE TIMBERLANDS 

if she ever heard of it, she would find it hard to for¬ 
give him for the course he had taken. When he met 
Carroll he was frowning. 

I’ve had a talk with Chisholm,” he said. ‘‘ It has 
upset my temper — I feel mean! There’s no doubt 
that you were right.” 

Carroll’s smile showed that he could guess what was 
in his comrade’s mind. 

“ I shouldn’t worry too much about the thing. The 
girl probably understands the situation. It’s not alto¬ 
gether pleasant, but I dare say she’s more or less re¬ 
signed to it. She can’t help herself.” 

Vane gazed at him with anger. 

“ Does that make it any better ? Is it any comfort 
to me ? ” 

“ Take her out of it. If she has any liking for you, 
she’ll thank you for doing so.” 

Vane strode away, and nobody saw him again for an 
hour or two. In the afternoon, however, at Mrs. Chis¬ 
holm’s suggestion, he and Carroll set out with the 
girls for a hill beyond the tarn. 

It was a perfect day of late autumn. A pale golden 
haze softened the rugged outlines of crag and fell, 
which towered in purple masses against a sky of stain¬ 
less azure. Warm sunshine flooded the valley, glow¬ 
ing on the gold and crimson that flecked the lower 
beech sprays and turning the leaves of the brambles 
to points of ruby flame. Here and there white lime¬ 
stone ridges flung back the light, and the tarn gleamed 
like molten silver when a faint puff of wind traced a 
dark blue smear athwart its surface. The winding 
road was thick with dust, and a deep stillness brooded 
over everything. 


CHISHOLM PROVES AMENABLE 115 

By and by, however, a couple of whip-cracks rose 
from beyond a dip of the road and were followed by 
a shout in a woman’s voice and a sharp clatter of 
iron on stone. 

‘‘ Oh! ” cried Mabel, when they reached the brow 
of the descent, “the poor thing can’t get up! What 
a shame to give it such a load 1 ” 

The road fell sharply between ragged hedgerows, 
and near the foot of the hill a pony was struggling 
vainly to move a cart. The vehicle was heavily 
loaded, and while the animal strained and floundered, 
a woman struck it with a whip. 

“ It’s Mrs. Hoggarth; her husband’s the carrier,” 
Mabel explained. “Come on! We must stop her! 
She mustn’t beat the pony like that! ” 

Vane strode down the hill, and when they ap¬ 
proached the cart Mabel called indignantly to the 
woman. 

“ Stop! You oughtn’t to do that! The load’s too 
heavy! Where’s Hoggarth ? ” 

Vane seized one rein close up to the bit and turned 
the pony until the cart was across the road. When 
he had done so, the woman looked around at Mabel. 

“ Wheel went over his foot last night. He canna 
get on his boot. I’m none fond of beating pony, but 
bank’s steep and we mun gan up. The folks mun 
have their things.” 

Vane glanced at the pony, which stood with lowered 
head and heaving flank. It was evident that the ani¬ 
mal could do/no more. 

“ There’s only one way out of the trouble,” he 
said. “ We must pack some of this truck to the top. 
What’s in those bags ? ” 


ii6 VANE OF THE TIMBERLANDS 


“ One’s oats,” answered the woman. “ It’s four 
bushel. Other one’s linseed cake. Those slates for 
Bell’s new stable are the heaviest.” 

Carroll came up with Evelyn just then, and Vane 
spoke to him. 

‘‘ Come here and help me with this bag! ” 

They had it ready at the back of the cart in a few 
moments, and Evelyn, who knew that a four-bushel 
bag of oats is difficult to move, was astonished at the 
ease with which they handled it. Vane got the bag 
upon his back and walked up the hill with it. The 
veins stood out on his forehead and his face grew 
red, but he plodded steadily on and came back for 
another load. 

“ I’ll take an armful of the slates this time, Carroll. 
You can tackle the cake.” 

The cake was heavy, though the bag was not full, 
and when they returned, Carroll was breathing hard 
and there were smears of blood on one of Vane’s 
hands. The old woman gazed at him in amazed ad¬ 
miration. 

“ Thank you, sir,” she said. There’s not many 
men wad carry four bushel up a bank like that.” 

Vane laughed. 

‘‘ I’m used to it. Now I think that we can face the 
hill.” 

He seized the rein, and after a flounder or two the 
pony started the load and struggled up the ascent. 
Leaving the woman at the top, voluble with thanks. 
Vane came down and sauntered on again with 
Mabel. 

‘‘ I made sure you would drop that bag until I saw 
how you got hold of it, and then I knew you would 


CHISHOLM PROVES AMENABLE 117 

manage,” she informed him. “ You see, I’ve watched 
the men at Scarside mill. I didn’t want you to drop 
it.” 

wonder why?” laughed Vane. 

‘‘If you do, you must be stupid. We’re friends, 
aren’t we? I like my friends to be able to do any¬ 
thing that other folks can. That’s partly why I took 
to you.” 

Vane made her a ceremonious bow and they went 
on, chatting lightly. When they came to a sweep 
of climbing moor, they changed companions, for Mabel 
led Carroll off in search of plants and ferns. Farther 
on, Evelyn sat down upon a heathy bank, and Vane 
found a place on a stone beside a trickling rill. 

“ It’s pleasant here, and I like the sun,” she ex¬ 
plained. “ Besides, it’s still a good way to the top, 
and I generally feel discontented when I get there. 
There are other peaks much higher — one wants to 
go on.” 

Vane smiled in comprehension. 

“ Yes,” he agreed. “ On and always on! It’s the 
feeling that drives the prospector. We seem to have 
the same thoughts on a good many points.” 

Evelyn did not answer this. 

“ I was glad you got that cart up the hill. What 
made you think of it? ” 

“ The pony was played out, though it was a plucky 
beast. I suppose I felt sorry for it. I’ve been driven 
hard myself.” 

The girl’s eyes softened. She had seen him use 
his strength, though it was, she imagined, the strength 
of determined will and disciplined body rather than 
bulk of muscle, for the man was hard and lean. 


ii8 VANE OF THE TIMBERLANDS 


The strength also was associated with a gentleness and 
a sympathy with the lower creation that appealed to 
her. 

“ How hard were you driven ? ” she asked. 

Sometimes, until I could scarcely crawl back to 
my tent or the sleeping-shack at night. Out yonder, 
construction bosses and contractors’ foremen are 
skilled in getting the utmost value of every dollar 
out of a man. I’ve had my hands worn to raw 
wounds and half my knuckles bruised until it was 
almost impossible to bend them.” 

“ Were you compelled to work like that ? ” 

“ I thought so. It seemed to be the custom of the 
country; one had to get used to it.” 

Evelyn hesitated a moment; though she was inter¬ 
ested. 

“ But was there nothing easier ? Had you no 
money ? ” 

“Very little, as a rule; and what I had I tried to 
keep. It was to give me a start in life. It was hard to 
resist the temptation to use some of it now and then, 
but I held out.” He laughed grimly. “ After all, I sup¬ 
pose it was excellent discipline.” 

The girl made a sign of comprehending sympathy. 
There was a romance in the man’s career which had 
its effect on her, and she could recognize the strength 
of will which had held him to the laborious tasks he 
might have shirked while the money lasted. Then a 
stain on the sleeve of his jacket caught her eye. 

“ You have hurt your hand! ” she exclaimed. 

Vane glanced down at his hand, which was red¬ 
dened all over. 

“ It looks like it; those slates must have cut it.” 


CHISHOLM PROVES AMENABLE 119 

“ Hadn’t you better wash it and tie it up ? It 
seems a nasty cut.” 

He dipped his hand into the rill, and was fumbling 
awkwardly with his handkerchief when she stopped 
him. 

That won’t do! Let me fix it for you.” 

Rolling up her own handkerchief, she wet it and 
laid it on his palm, across which a red gash ran. He 
had moved close to her, stooping down, and a dis¬ 
turbing thrill ran through him as she held his hand. 
Once more, however, he was troubled by a sense of 
compunction as he recalled his interview with Chis¬ 
holm. 

“ Thank you,” he said abruptly when she finished. 

There were signs of tension in his face, and she 
drew a little away from him when he sat down again. 
For a few moments he struggled with himself. They 
were alone; he had her father’s consent; and he knew 
that what he had done half an hour ago had appealed 
to her. But he felt that he could not plead his cause 
just then. With her parents on his side, she was at 
a disadvantage; and he shrank from the thought that 
she might be forced upon him against her will. This 
was not what he desired; and she might hate him for 
it afterward. She was very alluring, there had been 
signs of an unusual gentleness in her manner, and 
the light touch of her cool fingers had stirred his 
blood; but he wanted time to win her favor, aided 
only by such gifts as he had been endowed with. It 
cost him a determined effort, but he made up his mind 
to wait; and it was a relief to him when the approach 
of Mabel and Carroll rendered any confidential con¬ 
versation out of the question. 


CHAPTER X 


WITH THE OTTER HOUNDS 


WEEK or two had slipped away since Vane cut 



his hand. He lounged one morning upon the 
terrace, chatting with Carroll. It was a heavy, black 
morning; the hills were hidden by wrappings of leaden 
mist, and the still air was charged with moisture. 

Suddenly a long, faint howl came up the valley 
and was answered by another in a deeper note. Then 
a confused swelling clamor broke out, softened by 
the distance, and slightly resembling the sound of 
chiming bells. Carroll stopped and listened. 

What in the name of wonder is that? ” he asked. 

The first of it reminded me of a coyote howling, 
but the rest’s more like the noise the timber wolves 
make in the bush at night.” 

“ You haven’t made a bad shot,” Vane laughed. 

It’s a pack of otter hounds hot upon the scent.” 

The sound ceased as suddenly as it had begun; and 
a few moments later Mabel came running toward the 
men. 

I knew the hounds met at Patten Brig, but Jim 
was sure they’d go down-stream! ” she cried breath¬ 
lessly. “ They’re coming up! I think they’re at the 
pool below the village! Get two poles — you’ll find 
some in the tool-shed — and come along at once! ” 

She climbed into the house through a window, call¬ 
ing for Evelyn, and Carroll smiled. 


120 


WITH THE OTTER HOUNDS 121 


“We have our orders. I suppose we’d better go.” 

“ It’s one of the popular sports up here,” Vane re¬ 
plied. “ You may as well see it.” 

They set out a few minutes later, accompanied by 
Evelyn, while Mabel hurried on in front and re¬ 
proached them for their tardiness. Sometimes they 
heard the hounds, sometimes a hoarse shouting that 
traveled far through the still air, and then sometimes 
there was only the tremulous song of running water. 
At length, after crossing several wet fields, they came 
to a rushy meadow on the edge of the river, which 
spread out into a wide pool, fringed with alders which 
had not yet lost their leaves and the barer withes 
of osiers. There was a swift stream at the head of 
it, and a long rippling shallow at the tail; and scat¬ 
tered along the bank and in the water was a curiously 
mixed company. 

A red-coated man with whip and horn stood in 
the tail outflow, and three or four more with poles 
in their hands were spread out across the stream be¬ 
hind him. These, and one or two in the head stream, 
appeared by their dress to belong to the hunt; but 
the rest, among whom were a few women, were at¬ 
tired in every-day garments and were of different 
walks in life: artisans, laborers, people of leisure, 
and a late tourist or two. 

Three or four big hounds were swimming aim¬ 
lessly up and down the pool; a dozen more trotted to 
and fro along the water’s edge, stopping to sniff and 
give tongue in an uncertain manner now and then; 
but there was no sign of an otter. 

Carroll looked round with a smile when his com¬ 
panions stopped. 


122 VANE OF THE TIMBERLANDS 

It strikes me there’ll be very little work done in 
this neighborhood to-day,” he remarked. “ I’d no 
idea there were so many people in the valley with 
time to spare. The only thing that’s missing is the 
beast they’re after.” 

“ An otter is an almost invisible creature,” Evelyn 
explained. “ You very seldom see one, unless it’s 
hard pressed by the dogs. There are a good many 
in the river, but even the trout fishers, who are about 
at sunrise in the hot weather and wade in the dusk, 
rarely come across them. Are you going to take a 
share in the hunt ? ” 

No,” replied Carroll, glancing humorously at his 
pole. I don’t know why I brought this thing, un¬ 
less it was because Mopsy sent me for it. I’d rather 
stay and watch with you. Splashing through a river 
after a little beast that I don’t suppose they’d let an 
outsider kill doesn’t interest me. I don’t see why I 
should want to kill it, anyway. Some of you English 
people have sporting ideas I can’t understand. I 
struck a young man the other day — a well-educated 
man by the looks of him — who was spending the 
afternoon happily with a ferret by a corn stack, killing 
rats with a club. He seemed uncommonly pleased 
with himself because he’d got four of them.” 

Oh,” chided Mabel, you’re as bad as the silly 
people who call killing things cruel! I wouldn’t have 
thought it of you! ” 

Vane laughed. 

‘‘ I’ve seen him drop a deer with a single-shot rifle 
when it was going through thick brush almost as fast 
as a locomotive; and I believe that he once assisted 
in killing a panther in a thicket where you couldn’t 


WITH THE OTTER HOUNDS 123 

see two yards ahead. The point is that he meant to 
eat the deer — and the panther had been taking a 
rancher’s hogs.” 

“ I’m sorry I brought him,” Mabel pouted. ‘‘ He’s 
not a sportsman.” 

“ I really think there’s some excuse for the more 
vigorous sports,” Evelyn maintained. “Of course, 
you can’t eliminate a certain amount of cruelty; but, 
admitting that, isn’t it just as well that men who live 
in a luxurious civilization should be willing to plod 
through miles of heather after grouse, risk their limbs 
on horseback, or spend hours in cold water? These 
are bracing things; they imply some moral discipline. 
It really can’t be nice to ride at a dangerous fence, 
or to flounder down a rapid after an otter when 
you’re stiff with cold. The effort to do so must be 
wholesome.” 

“ A sure thing,” Carroll agreed. “ The only trouble 
is that when you’ve got your fox or otter, it isn’t 
worth anything. A good many of the people in the 
newer lands, every day, have to make something of 
the kind of effort you describe. In their case, the 
results are wagon trails, valleys cleared for orchards, 
or new branch railroads. I suppose it’s a matter of 
opinion, but if I’d put in a season’s risky work. I’d 
rather have a piece of land to grow fruit on or a 
share in a mineral claim — you get plenty of excite¬ 
ment in prospecting for that — than a fox’s tail.” 

He strolled along the bank with Evelyn, fol¬ 
lowing the hunt up-stream. Suddenly he looked 
around. 

“ Mopsy’s gone; and I don’t see Vane.” 

“ After all, he’s one of us,” Evelyn laughed. “ If 


124 VANE OF THE TIMBERLANDS 

you’re born in the North Country, it’s hard to keep 
out of the river when you hear the otter hounds.” 

“ But Mopsy’s not going in! ” 

“ I’m afraid I can’t answer for her.” 

They took up their station behind a growth of 
alders, and for a while the dogs went trotting by in 
twos and threes or swam about the pool, but nothing 
else broke the surface of the leaden-colored water. 
Then there was a cry, an outbreak of shouting, a con¬ 
fused baying, and half a dozen hounds dashed past. 
More followed, heading up-stream along the bank, 
with a tiny brown terrier panting behind them. Eve¬ 
lyn stretched out her hand. 

“ Look!” 

Carroll saw a small gray spot — the top of the 
otter’s head — moving across the slacker part of the 
pool, with a very slight, wedge-shaped ripple trailing 
away from it. It sank the next moment; a bubble 
or two rose; and then there was nothing but the 
smooth flow of water. 

A horn called shrilly; a few whip-cracks rang out 
like pistol-shots; and the dogs took the water, swim¬ 
ming slowly here and there. Men scrambled along 
the bank. Some, entering the river, reinforced the 
line spread out across the head rapid while others 
joined the second row wading steadily up-stream and 
splashing about as they advanced with iron-tipped 
poles. Nothing rewarded their efforts. The dogs 
suddenly turned and went down-stream; and then 
everybody ran or waded toward the tail outflow. A 
clamor of shouting and baying broke out; and floun¬ 
dering men and swimming dogs went down the stream 
together in a confused mass. There was a brief 


WITH THE OTTER HOUNDS 125 

silence. The hounds came out and trotted to and fro 
along the bank; and dripping men clambered after 
them. 

Evelyn laughed as she pointed to Vane among the 
leading group. He looked even wetter than the others. 

I don’t suppose he meant to go in. It’s in the 
blood.” 

“ There’s no reason why he shouldn’t, if it amuses 
him,” Carroll replied. When I first met him, he’d 
have been more careful of his clothes.” 

A little later the dogs were driven in again, and this 
time the whole of the otter’s head was visible as it 
swam up-stream. The animal was flagging, and on 
reaching shoaler water it sprang out altogether now 
and then, rising and falling in the stronger stream 
with a curious serpentine motion. In fact, as head 
and body bent in the same sinuous curves, it looked 
less like an animal than a plunging fish. The men 
guarding the rapid stood ready with their poles, and 
more were wading and splashing up both sides of the 
pool. The otter’s pace was getting slower; sometimes 
it seemed to stop; and now and then it vanished 
among the ripples. Carroll saw that Evelyn’s face 
was intent, though there were signs of shrinking in 
it. 

“ I’ll tell you what you are thinking,” he said. 
‘‘ You want that poor little beast to get away.” 

“ I believe I do,” Evelyn confessed. “ And you? ” 

“ I’m afraid I’m not much of a sportsman, in this 
sense.” 

They watched with strained attention. The girl 
could not help it, though she dreaded the climax. Her 
sympathies were now with the hard-pressed, exhausted 


126 VANE OF THE TIMBERLANDS 


creature that was making a desperate fight for its 
life- The pursuers were close upon it, the swimming 
dogs leading them; and ahead lay a foaming rush of 
water which seemed less than a foot deep, with men 
spread out across it. The shouting from the bank had 
ceased, and everybody waited in tense expectancy 
when the otter disappeared. The dogs reached the 
rapid, where they were washed back a few yards be¬ 
fore they could make headway up-stream. Men who 
came splashing close upon them left the water to 
scramble along the bank; and then they stopped 
abruptly, while the dogs swam in an uncertain man¬ 
ner about the still reach beyond. They came out in 
a few minutes and scampered up and down among 
the stones, evidently at fault, for there was no sign 
of the otter anywhere. Incredible as it seemed, the 
hunted creature, an animal that would probably weigh 
about twenty-four pounds, had crept up the rush of 
water among the feet of those who watched for it 
and vanished unseen into the sheltering depths beyond. 

Evelyn sighed with relief. 

I think it will escape,” she said. “ The river’s 
rather full after the rain, which is against the dogs, 
and there isn’t another shallow for some distance. 
Shall we go on? ” 

They strolled forward behind the dogs, which were 
again moving up-stream; but they turned aside to 
avoid a bit of woods, and it was some time later when 
they came out upon a rocky promontory dropping 
steeply to the river. Just there, the water flowed 
through a deep gorge, down the sides of which great 
oaks and ashes straggled. In front of Carroll and 
his companion a ragged face of rock fell about twenty 


WITH THE OTTER HOUNDS 127 

feet; but there was a little soil among the stones be¬ 
low, and a dense growth of alders interspersed with 
willows, fringed the water’s edge. The stream 
swirled in deep black eddies beneath their drooping 
branches, though a little farther on it poured tumul¬ 
tuously between scattered boulders into the slacker 
pool. The rock sloped on one side, and there was 
a bank of underbrush near the foot of the descent. 

The hunt was now widely scattered about the reach. 
Men crept along slippery ledges above the water and 
moved over dangerously slanting slopes, half hidden 
among the trees; a few were in the river. Three or 
four of the dogs were swimming; the others, spread 
out in twos and threes, trotted in and out among the 
undergrowth. 

Presently, a figure creeping along the foot of the 
rock not far away seized Carroll’s attention. 

‘‘ It’s Mopsy! ” he exclaimed. “ The foothold 
doesn’t look very safe among those stones, and there 
seems to be deep water below.” 

He called out in warning, but the girl did not heed. 
The willows were thinner at the spot she had reached, 
and, squeezing herself through them, she leaned down, 
clinging to an alder branch. 

“ He’s gone to holt among the roots! ” she cried. 

Three or four men running along the opposite bank 
apparently decided that she was right, for the horn 
was sounded and here and there a dog broke through 
the underbrush. Just as the first-comers reached the 
rapid, there was a splash. It was a moment or two 
before Evelyn or Carroll, who had been watching the 
dogs, realized what had happened; then the blood ebbed 
from the girl’s face. Malxl had disappeared. 


128 VANE OF THE TIMBERLANDS 


Running a few paces forward, Carroll saw what 
looked like a bundle of outspread garments swing 
round in an eddy. It washed in among the willows, 
and he heard a faint cry. 

Help! — Quick! I’ve caught a branch! ” 

He could not see the girl now, but an alder branch 
was bending sharply, and he flung a rapid glance 
around him. The summit of the rock on which he 
stood rose above the trees. Had there been a better 
landing, he would have faced the risky fall, but it 
seemed impossible to alight among the stones without 
a broken leg. Even if he came down uninjured, there 
was a barrier of tangled branches and densely growing 
withes between him and the river, and the opening 
through which Mabel had fallen was some distance 
away. Farther down-stream, he might reach the wa¬ 
ter by a reckless jump, as the promontory sloped to¬ 
ward it there, but he would not be able to swim back 
against the current. His position was a painful one; 
there was nothing that he could do. 

The next moment, men and dogs went scrambling 
and swimming down the rapid. They were in hot 
pursuit of the otter, which had left its hiding place, 
and it was evident that the girl, clinging to a branch 
beneath the willows, had escaped their attention. Car- 
roll shouted savagely as his comrade appeared among 
the tail of the hunt below. The others were too much 
occupied to heed; or perhaps they concluded that he 
was urging them on. 

Help! Mabel! ” Carroll shouted again and again, 
gesticulating wildly in his desperation. 

Vane, waist-deep in the water, seemed to catch the 
girl’s name and understand. In a few moments he 


WITH THE OTTER HOUNDS 129 

was swimming down the pool along the edge of the 
alders. Then Carroll saw that Evelyn expected him 
to take some part in the rescue. 

“ Get down before it’s too late! ” she cried. 

Carroll spread out his hands, as if to beg her for¬ 
bearance. While every impulse urged him to the leap, 
he endeavored to keep his head. He fancied that he 
would be wanted later, and it was obvious that he 
would not be available if he lay upon the rocks below 
with broken bones. 

“ I can’t do any good just now,” he tried to ex¬ 
plain, knowing that he was right and yet feeling hor¬ 
ribly ashamed. She’s holding on, and Wallace will 
reach her in a moment or two.” 

Evelyn broke out at him in an agony of fear and 
anger. 

‘‘ You coward! Will you let her drown? ” 

She turned and ran forward, but Carroll, dreading 
that she meant to attempt the descent, seized her shoul¬ 
der and held her fast. While he grappled with her. 
Vane’s voice rose from below, and he let his hands 
drop. 

Wallace has her. There’s no more danger,” he 
said quietly. 

Evelyn suddenly recovered a small degree of calm. 
Even amid the stress of her terror, she recognized the 
assurance in the man’s tone. He had blind confidence 
in his comrade’s prowess, and his next words made 
this impression clearer. 

“ Don’t be afraid. He’ll never let go until he brings 
her out.” 

Standing, breathless, a pace or two apart, they saw 
Vane and the girl appear from beneath the willows 


130 VANE OF THE TIMBERLANDS 

and wash away down-stream. The man was swim¬ 
ming, but he was hampered by his burden, and once 
he and Mabel sank almost from sight in a whirling 
eddy. Carroll said nothing. Turning, he ran along 
the sloping ridge until the fall was less and the trees 
were thinner; then he leaped out into the air. He 
broke through the alders amid a rustle of bending 
boughs, and disappeared; but a moment or two later 
his shoulders shot out of the water close beside Vane, 
and the two men went down the stream with Mabel 
between them. 

Evelyn scrambled wildly along the ridge, and when 
she reached the foot of it. Vane was helping Mabel 
up the sloping bank of gravel. The girl’s drenched 
garments clung about her, and her wet hair was 
streaked across her face, but she seemed able to 
stand. The hunt had swept on through shoaler water, 
but there was a cheer from the stragglers across the 
river. Evelyn clutched her sister, half laughing, half 
sobbing, and incoherently upbraided her. Mabel 
shook herself free, and her first remark was charac¬ 
teristic. 

Oh, don’t make a silly fuss! I’m only wet 
through. Wallace, take me home.” 

She tried to shake out her dripping skirt, and Vane 
picked her up, as she seemed to expect it. The others 
followed when he pushed through the underbrush to¬ 
ward a neighboring meadow. Evelyn, however, was 
still a little unnerved, and when they reached a gap 
in a wall she stopped and leaned heavily against the 
stones. 

‘‘ I think I’m more disturbed than Mopsy is,” she 
said to Carroll. “ What I felt must be some excuse 


WITH THE OTTER HOUNDS 131 

for me. You were right, of course. Fm sorry for 
what I said; it was unjustifiable.’^ 

Carroll laughed lightly. 

'' Anyway, it was perfectly natural; but I must 
confess that I felt some temptation to make a spectac¬ 
ular fool of myself. I might have jumped into those 
alders, but it’s most unlikely that I could have got out 
of them.” 

Evelyn looked at him with a new respect. He had 
not troubled to point out that he had not flinched from 
the jump when it seemed likely to be of service. 

How could you have the sense to think of that? ” 
she asked. 

‘‘ I suppose it’s a matter of practise. One can’t 
work among the ranges and rivers without learn¬ 
ing to make the right decision rapidly. When you 
don’t, you get badly hurt. With most of us, the 
thing has to be cultivated; it’s not instinctive.” 

Evelyn was struck by the explanation. This ac¬ 
quired coolness was a finer thing, and undoubtedly 
more useful, than hot-headed gallantry, though she 
admired the latter. She was young, and physical 
prowess appealed to her; besides, it had been displayed 
in saving her sister’s life. Carroll and his comrade 
were men of varied and romantic experience; and 
they possessed, she fancied, qualities not shared by 
all their fellows. 

“ Wallace was splendid in the water! ” she ex¬ 
claimed, uttering part of her thoughts aloud. 

“ I thought rather more of him in the city,” Carroll 
replied. That kind of thing was new to him, and 
I’m inclined to believe that I’d have let the people he 
had to negotiate with have the mine for a good deal 


132 VANE OF THE TIMBERLANDS 

less than he eventually got for it. But Fve said some¬ 
thing about that before; and, after all, I’m not here 
to play Boswell.” 

The girl was surprised at the apt allusion; it was 
not what she would have expected from the man. 
As she had not wholly recovered her composure, she 
forgot what Vane had told her about him, and her 
comment was an incautious one: 

** How did you hear of him? ” 

Carroll parried this with a smile. 

You don’t suppose you can keep those old fellows 
to yourselves — they’re international. But hadn’t we 
better be getting on? Let me help you through the 
gap. 

They reached the Dene some time later, and Mabel, 
very much against her wishes, was sent to bed. 
Shortly afterward Carroll came across Vane, who had 
changed his clothes and was strolling up and down 
among the shrubberies. 

What are you doing here ? ” he asked. 

Vane looked embarrassed. 

For one thing, Fm keeping out of Mrs. Chisholm’s 
way; she’s inclined to be effusive. For another, Fm 
trying to think out what I ought to do. We’ll have 
to pull out very shortly; and I had meant to have an 
interview with Evelyn to-day. That’s why I feel un¬ 
commonly annoyed with Mopsy for falling in.” 

Carroll made a grimace. 

If that’s how it strikes you, any advice I could 
offer would be wasted. A sensible man would con¬ 
sider it a promising opportunity.” 

“And trade upon it? As you know, there wasn’t 


WITH THE OTTER HOUNDS 133 

the slightest risk, with branches that one could get 
hold of, and a shelving bank almost within reach.” 

“ Do you really want the girl ? ” 

** That impression’s firmly in my mind,” Vane said 
curtly. 

‘‘ Then you’d better pitch your Quixotic notions 
overboard and tell her so.” 

Vane frowned but made no answer; and Carroll, 
recognizing that his comrade was not inclined to be 
communicative, left him pacing up and down. 


CHAPTER XI 


VANE WITHDRAWS 

D usk was drawing on, but there was still a little 
light in the western sky, when Vane strolled 
along the terrace in front of the Dene. In the dis¬ 
tance the ranks of fells rose black and solemn out of 
filmy trails of mist, but the valley had faded to a 
trough of shadow. A faint breeze was stirring, and 
the silence was broken by the soft patter of withered 
leaves which fluttered down across the lawn. Vane 
noticed it all by some involuntary action of his senses, 
for although, at the time, he was oblivious to his sur¬ 
roundings, he afterward found that he could recall 
each detail of the scene with vivid distinctness. He 
was preoccupied and eager, but fully aware of the 
need for coolness, for it was quite possible that he 
might fail in the task he had in hand. 

Presently he saw Evelyn, for whom he had been 
waiting, cross the opposite end of the terrace. Mov¬ 
ing forward he joined her at the entrance to a shrub¬ 
bery walk. A big, clipped yew with a recess in which 
a seat had been placed stood close by. 

“ I have been sitting with Mppsy,” said Evelyn. 
She seems very little the worse for her adventure — 
thanks to you.’^ She hesitated and her voice grew 
softer. ‘‘ I owe you a heavy debt — I am very fond 
of Mopsy.” 


134 


VANE WITHDRAWS 


135 

It’s a great pity she fell in,” Vane declared 
curtly. 

Evelyn looked at him in surprise. She scarcely 
thought he could regret the efforts he had made on 
her sister’s behalf, but that was what his words im¬ 
plied. He noticed her change of expression. 

“ The trouble is that the thing might seem to give 
me some claim on you; and I don’t want that,” he 
explained. “ It cost me no more than a wetting; I 
hadn’t the least difficulty in getting her out.” 

His companion was still puzzled. She could find 
no fault with him for being modest about his exploit, 
but that he should make it clear that he did not 
require her gratitude struck her as unnecessary. 

“ For all that, you did bring her out,” she persisted. 
“ Even if it causes you no satisfaction, the fact is of 
some importance to us.” 

I don’t seem to be beginning very fortunately. 
What I mean is that I don’t want to urge my claim, if 
I have one. Fd rather be taken on my merits.” He 
paused a moment with a smile. That’s not much 
better, is it? But it partly expresses what I feel. 
Leaving Mopsy out altogether, let me try to explain 
— I don’t wish you to be influenced by anything ex¬ 
cept your own idea of me. Fm saying this because 
one or two points that seem in my favor may have 
a contrary effect.” 

Evelyn made no answer, and he indicated the seat. 

‘‘Won’t you sit down? I have something to say.” 

The girl did as he suggested, and his smile died 
away. 

“ Would you be astonished if I were to ask you to 
marry me? ” 


136 VANE OF THE TIMBERLANDS 

He leaned against the smooth wall of yew, looking 
down at her with an impressive steadiness of gaze. 
She could imagine him facing the city men from whom 
he had extorted the full value of his mine in the 
same fashion, and, in a later instance, so surveying the 
eddies beneath the osiers, when he had gone to Mabel’s 
rescue. It was borne in upon her that they would 
better understand each other. 

No,” she answered. “ If I must be candid, I am 
not astonished.” Then the color crept into her cheeks 
as she met his gaze. “ I suppose it is an honor; and 
it is undoubtedly a — temptation.” 

“A temptation?” 

“ Yes,” said Evelyn, mustering her courage to face 
a crisis she had dreaded. “ It is only due you that 
you should hear the truth — though I think you sus¬ 
pect it. Besides — I have some liking for you.” 

That is what I wanted you to own! ” Vane broke 
in. 

She checked him with a gesture. Her manner was 
cold, and yet there was something in it that stirred him 
more than her beauty. 

“ After all,” she explained, ‘‘ it does not go very 
far, and you must try to understand. I want to be 
quite honest, and what I have to say is — difficult. In 
the first place, things are far from pleasant for me 
here; I was expected to make a good marriage, and 
I had my chance in London. I refused to profit by 
it, and now I’m a failure. I wonder whether you can 
realize v^hat a temptation it is to get away? ” 

Vane frowned. 

“ Yes,” he responded. “ It makes me savage to 
think of it! I can, at least, take you out of all this. 


VANE WITHDRAWS 137 

If you hadn’t had a very fine courage, you wouldn’t 
have told me.” 

Evelyn smiled, a curious wry smile. 

It has only prompted me to behave, as most people 
would consider, shamelessly; but there are times when 
one must get above that point of view. Besides, there’s 
a reason for my candor — had you been a man of dif¬ 
ferent stamp, it’s possible that I might have been 
driven into taking the risk. We should both have 
suffered for a time, but we might have reached an 
understanding — not to intrude on each other — 
through open variance. As it is, I could not do you 
that injustice, and I should shrink from marrying 
you with only a little cold liking.” 

The man held himself firmly in hand. Her calm¬ 
ness had infected him, and he felt that this was not 
an occasion for romantic protestations, even had he 
felt capable of making them, which was not the case. 
As a matter of fact, such things were singularly for¬ 
eign to his nature. 

“ Even that would go a long way with me, if I could 
get nothing better,” he declared. “ Besides, you might 
change. I could surround you with some comfort; 
I think I could promise not to force my company 
upon you; I believe I could be kind.” 

“ Yes,” assented Evelyn. “ I shouldn’t be afraid 
of harshness from you; but it seems impossible that 
I should change. You must see that you started handi¬ 
capped from the beginning. Had I been free to 
choose, it might have been different, but I have lived 
for some time in shame and fear, hating the thought 
that some one would be forced on me.” 

He said nothing and she went on. 


138 VANE OF THE TIMBERLANDS 

“ Must I tel^ you? You are the man! ’’ 

His face grew hard and for a moment he set his 
lips tight. It would have been a relief to express his 
feelings concerning his host just then. 

If you don’t hate me for it now, I’m willing 
to take the risk,” he said at length. ‘‘ It will be my 
fault if you hate me in the future; I’ll try not to 
deserve it.” 

He fancied that she was yielding, but she roused 
herself with an effort. 

No. Love on one side may go a long way, if 
it is strong enough — but it must be strong to over¬ 
come the many clashes of thought and will. Yours ” 
— she looked at him steadily —“ would not stand the 
strain.” 

Vane started. 

You are the only woman I ever wished to marry,” 
he declared vehemently. 

He paused and spread out his hands. 

What can I say to convince you ? ” 

‘‘ I’m afraid it’s impossible. If you had wanted 
me greatly, you would have pressed the claim you 
had in saving Mopsy, and I should have forgiven 
you that; you would have urged any and every claim. 
As it is, I suppose I am pretty ”— her lips curled scorn¬ 
fully —and you find that some of your ideas and 
mine agree. It isn’t half enough! Shall I tell you 
that you are scarcely moved as yet ? ” 

It flashed upon Vane that he was confronted with 
the reality. Her beauty had appealed to him, and her 
other qualities — her reserved graciousness with its 
tinge of dignity, her insight and her comprehension — 
had also had their effect; but they had only awakened 


VANE WITHDRAWS 


139 


admiration and respect. He desired her as one desires 
an object for its rarity and preciousness; but this, as 
she had told him, was not enough. Behind her physical 
and mental attributes, and half revealed by them, there 
was something deeper: the real personality of the girl. 
It was elusive, mystic, with a spark of immaterial 
radiance which might brighten human love with its 
transcendent glow; but, as he dimly realized, if he 
won her by force, it might recede and vanish altogether. 
He could not, with strong ardor, compel its clearer 
manifestation. 

“ I think I am moved as much as it is possible for 
me to be.” 

Evelyn shook her head. 

“ No; you will discover the difference some day, 
and then you will thank me for leaving you your lib¬ 
erty. Now I beg you to leave me mine and let me 
go.’’ 

Vane stood silent a minute or two, for the last ap¬ 
peal had stirred him to chivalrous pity. He was 
shrewd enough to realize that if he persisted he could 
force her to come to him. Her father and mother 
were with him; she had nothing — no commonplace 
usefulness nor trained abilities — to fall back on if 
she defied them. But it was unthinkable that he should 
brutally compel her. 

Well,” he yielded at length, “ I must try to face 
the situation; I want to assure you that it is not a 
pleasant one to me. But there’s another point — I’m 
afraid I’ve made things worse for you. Your people 
will probably blame you for sending me away.” 

Evelyn did not answer this, and he broke into a 
grim smile. 


140 VANE OF THE TIMBERLANDS 

Well,” he added, I think I can save you any 
trouble on that score — though the course Fm going 
to take isn’t flattering, if you look at it in one way. 
I want you to leave me to deal with your father.” 

He took her consent for granted, and leaning down 
laid a hand lightly on her shoulder. 

You will try to forgive me for the anxiety I have 
caused you? The time Fve spent here has been very 
pleasant, but Fm going back to Canada in a day or 
two. Perhaps you’ll think of me without bitterness 
now and then.” 

He turned away; and Evelyn sat still, glad that the 
strain was over, thinking earnestly. The man was 
gentle and considerate as well as forceful, and to 
some extent she liked him. Indeed, she admitted that 
she had not met any man she liked as much; but that 
was not going very far. Then she began to wonder 
at her candor, and to consider if it had been necessary. 
It was curious that this was the only man she had 
ever taken into her confidence. It struck her that 
her next suitor would probably be a much less prom¬ 
ising specimen. On the other hand, since her views 
on the subject differed from those her parents held, 
it was consoling to remember that eligible suitors for 
the daughter of an impoverished gentleman were likely 
to be scarce. 

It had grown dark when she rose and entering the 
house went up to Mabel’s room. The girl looked at 
her sharply as she came in. 

‘‘ So you have got rid of him! ” she said. - ‘‘ I think 
you’re very silly.” 

How did you know ? ” Evelyn asked with a start. 

‘‘ I heard him walking up and down the terrace, and 


VANE WITHDRAWS 


141 

I heard you go out. You can’t walk over raked gravel 
without making a noise. He went along to join you, 
and it was a good while before you came back at dif¬ 
ferent times. I’ve been waiting for this the last day 
or two.” 

Evelyn sat down with a rather strained smile. 

“ Well, I have sent him away.” 

Mabel regarded her indignantly. 

You’ll never get another chance like this one. If 
I’d been in your place, I’d have had Wallace if it 
had cost me no end of trouble to get him. He said 
something about its being a pity I wasn’t older, one 
day, and I told him that I wasn’t by any means as 
young as I looked. If you had only taken him, I 
could have worn decent frocks. Nobody could call 
the last one that! ” 

This was a favorite grievance, and Evelyn ignored 
it; but Mabel had more to say. 

“ I suppose,” she went on, you don’t know that 
Wallace has been getting Gerald out of trouble ? ” 

‘‘ Are you sure of that? ” 

“ Yes. I’ll tell you what I know. Wallace saw 
Gerald in London — he told us that — and we all 
know that Gerald couldn’t pay his debts a little while 
ago. You remember he came down to Kendall and 
went on and stayed the next night with the Claytons. 
It isn’t astonishing that he didn’t come here, after 
the row there was on the last occasion.” 

“ Go on,” prompted Evelyn impatiently. What 
has his visit to the Clayton’s to do with it? ” 

‘‘ Well, you don’t know that I saw Gerald in the 
afternoon. After all, he’s the only brother I’ve got ; 
and as Jim was going to the station with the trap I 


142 VANE OF THE TIMBERLANDS 

made him take me. The Claytons were in the garden; 
we were scattered about, and I heard Frank and Ger¬ 
ald, who had strolled off from the others, talking. 
Gerald was telling him about some things he’d bought 
— they must have been expensive, because Frank asked 
him where he got the money. Gerald laughed and said 
he’d had an unexpected stroke of luck that had set 
him straight again. Now, of course Gerald got no 
money from home, and if he’d won it he would have 
told Frank how he did so. Gerald always would tell 
a thing like that.” 

Evelyn was filled with confusion and hot indigna¬ 
tion. She had little doubt that Mabel’s surmise was 
correct. 

I wonder whether he has told anybody; though 
it’s scarcely likely.” 

Mabel laughed. 

“Of course he hasn’t. We all know what Gerald 
is. Before I came home, I asked him what he thought 
of Wallace. He said he was a good sort, or some¬ 
thing like that, and I saw that he had a reason for 
saying it; but he must go on in his patronizing style 
that Wallace was rather Colonial, though he hadn’t 
drifted too far — not beyond reclamation. After all, 
Wallace was one of — us — before he went out; and 
if Carroll’s Colonial he’s the kind of man I like. I 
was so angry with Gerald I wanted to slap him! ” 

There was no doubt that Mabel was a staunch parti- 
zan, and Evelyn sympathized with her. She was, of 
course, acquainted with her brother’s character, and 
she was filled with indignant contempt for him. It 
was intolerable that he should have allowed Vane to 


VANE WITHDRAWS 


143 

discharge his debts and then have alluded to him in 
terms of indulgent condescension. 

‘‘ It strikes me Wallace ought to get his money 
back, now that you have sent him away,” Mabel 
added. But of course that's most unlikely. It 
wouldn't take Gerald long to waste it.” 

Evelyn rose and, making some excuse, left the 
room. She could feel her face growing hot, and 
Mabel had unusually keen eyes and precocious powers 
of deduction. A suspicion which had troubled her 
more than Gerald's conduct had lately crept into her 
mind, and it now thrust itself upon her attention; 
several things pointed to the fact that her father had 
taken the same course her brother had done. She felt 
that had she heard Mabel's information before the in¬ 
terview with Vane, she might have yielded to him 
in an agony of humiliation. Mabel had summed up 
the situation with stinging candor and crudity — Vane, 
who had been defrauded, was entitled to recover his 
money. For a few moments Evelyn was furiously 
angry with him, and then, grpwing calmer, she recog¬ 
nized that this was unreasonable. She could not im¬ 
agine any idea of a compact originating with the man, 
and he had quietly acquiesced in her decision. 

Soon after she left her sister. Vane walked into the 
room which Chisholm reserved for his own use. It 
was handsomely furnished, and the big, light-oak 
writing-table and glass-fronted cabinets were examples 
of artistic handicraft. The sight of them jarred on 
Vane, who had already surmised that it was the women 
of the Chisholm family who were expected to practise 
self-denial. Chisholm was sitting at the table with 


144 VANE OF THE TIMBERLANDS 

some papers in front of him and a cigar in his hand, 
and Vane drew out a chair and lighted his pipe be¬ 
fore he addressed him. 

Tve made up my mind to sail on Saturday, instead 
of next week,” he said abruptly. 

‘‘ You have decided rather suddenly, haven’t you? ” 
Chisholm suggested. 

Vane knew that what his host wished to know was 
the cause of the decision, and he meant to come to the 
point. He was troubled by no consideration for the 
man. 

“ The last news I had indicated that I was wanted,” 
he replied. ‘‘ After all, there is only one reason 
why I have abused Mrs. Chisholm’s hospitality so 
long.” 

“Well?” 

“ You will remember what I asked you some time 
ago. I had better say that I retire from the position 
— abandon the idea.” 

Chisholm started and his florid face grew redder, 
while Vane, in place of embarrassment, was conscious 
of a somewhat grim amusement. It seemed curious 
that a man of Chisholm’s stamp should have any 
pride. 

“What am I to understand by that?” Chisholm 
asked with some asperity. 

“ I think that what I said explained it. Bearing 
in mind your and Mrs. Chisholm’s influence, I’ve an 
idea that Evelyn might have yielded, if I’d strongly 
urged my suit; but that was not by any means what 
I wanted. I’d naturally prefer a wife who married 
me because she wished to do so. That’s why, after 
thinking the thing over, I’ve decided to — withdraw.” 


VANE WITHDRAWS 


145 

Chisholm straightened himself in his chair in fiery 
indignation, which he made no attempt to conceal. 

“ You mean that after asking my consent, and see¬ 
ing more of Evelyn, you have changed your mind! 
Can’t you understand that it’s an unpardonable con¬ 
fession — one which I never fancied a man born and 
brought up in your station could have brought him¬ 
self to make? ” 

Vane looked at him with an impassive face. 

“ It strikes me as largely a question of terms — I 
may not have used the right one. Now that you know 
how the matter stands, you can describe it in any way 
that sounds nicest In regard to your other remark. 
I’ve been in a good many stations, and I must admit 
that until lately none of them were likely to promote 
much delicacy of sentiment.” 

So it seems! ” Chisholm was almost too hot to 
sneer. “ But can’t you realize how your action re¬ 
flects upon my daughter ? ” 

Vane held himself in hand. He had only one ob¬ 
ject : to divert Chisholm’s wrath from Evelyn to him¬ 
self, and he fancied that he was succeeding in this. 
For the rest, he was conscious of a strong resentment 
against the man. Evelyn had told him that he had 
started handicapped. 

It can’t reflect upon her unless you talk about it, 
and both you and Mrs. Chisholm have sense enough 
to refrain from doing that,” he answered dryly. ‘‘ I 
can’t flatter myself that Evelyn will grieve over me.” 
Then his manner changed. Now we’ll get down to 
business. I don’t purpose to call in that loan, which 
will, no doubt, be a relief to you.” 

He rose leisurely and strolled out of the room. 


146 VANE OF THE TIMBERLANDS 

Shortly afterward he met Carroll in the hall, and 
the latter glanced at him sharply. 

‘‘What have you been doing?’’ he inquired. 
“ There’s a look in your eyes I seem to remember.” 

Vane laughed. 

“ I suppose I’ve been outraging the rules of de¬ 
cency ; but I don’t feel ashamed. I’ve been acting the 
uncivilized Westerner, though it’s possible that I rather 
strained the part. To come to the point, however, 
we pull out for the Dominion first thing to-morrow.” 

Carroll asked no further questions; he did not think 
it would serve any purpose. He contented himself 
with making arrangements for their departure, which 
they took early on the morrow. Vane had a brief in¬ 
terview with Mabel, and then by her contrivance he 
secured a word or two with Evelyn alone. 

“ It is possible,” he told her, “ that you may hear 
some hard things of me — and I count upon your not 
contradicting them. After all, I think you owe me 
that favor. There’s just another matter — now that 
I won’t be here to trouble you, won’t you try to think 
of me leniently? ” 

He held her hand for a moment and then turned 
away, and a few minutes later he and Carroll left the 
Dene. 


CHAPTER XII 


IN VANCOUVER 

A bout a fortnight after Vane’s return to Van¬ 
couver, he sat one evening on the veranda of 
Nairn’s house, in company with his host and Carroll, 
lazily looking down upon the inlet. The days were 
growing shorter; the air was clear and cool; and the 
snow upon the heights across the still, blue water was 
creeping lower down. The clatter of a steamer’s 
winches rose sharply from the wharf, and the sails 
of two schooners gleamed against the dark pines that 
overhang the Narrows. 

In some respects. Vane was glad to be back in the 
western city. At first, the ease and leisure at the 
Dene had their charm for him, but by degrees he 
came to chafe at them. The green English valley, 
hemmed in by its sheltering hills, was steeped in too 
profound a tranquillity; the stream of busy life passed 
it by with scarcely an entering ripple to break its 
drowsy calm. One found its atmosphere enervating, 
dulling to the faculties. In the new West, however, 
one was forcibly thrust into contact with a strenuous 
activity. Life was free and untrammeled there; it 
flowed with a fierce joyousness in natural channels, 
and one could feel the eager throb of it. 

Yet the man was not content. He had been to the 
mine, and in going and coming he had ridden far over 

147 


148 VANE OF THE TIMBERLANDS 

a very rough trail, but the physical effort had not 
afforded a sufficient outlet for his pent-up energies. 
He had afterward lounged about the city for nearly 
a week, and he found this becoming monotonous. 

Nairn presently referred to one of the papers in 
his hand. 

“ Horsfield has been bringing up that smelter project 
again, and there’s something to be said in favor of 
his views,” he remarked. ‘‘ We’re paying a good deal 
for reduction.” 

‘‘ We couldn’t keep a smelter going, at present,” 
Vane objected. 

“ There are two or three low-grade mineral proper¬ 
ties in the neighborhood of the Clermont that have 
had very little development work done on them. They 
can’t pay freight on their raw product, but I’m think¬ 
ing that we’d encourage their owners to open up the 
mines, and we^d get their business, if we had a smelter 
handy.” 

‘‘ It wouldn’t amount to much,” Vane replied. 
‘‘Besides, there’s another objection — we haven’t the 
money to put up a thoroughly efficient plant.” 

“ Horsfield’s ready to find part of it and to do the 
work.” 

“ I know he is.” Vane frowned. “ It strikes me 
he’s suspiciously anxious. The arrangement he has 
in view would give him a pretty strong hold upon the 
company; and there are ways in which he could squeeze 
us.” 

“ It’s possible. But, looking at it as a purely per¬ 
sonal matter, there are inducements he could offer 
ye. Horsfield’s a man who has the handling of other 


IN VANCOUVER 


149 

folks’ money, if he has no that much of his own. It 
might be wise to stand in with him.” 

So he hinted,” Vane answered dryly. 

Your argument was about the worst you could 
have used, Mr. Nairn,” Carroll laughed. 

Weel,” drawled Nairn good-humoredly, “ I’m no 
urging it. I would not see your partner make enemies 
for the want of a warning.” 

He’d probably do so, in any case; it’s a gift of his. 
On the other hand, it’s fortunate that he has a way 
of making friends. The two things sometimes go 
together.” 

Vane turned to Nairn with signs of impatience. 

** It might save trouble if I state that while I’m a 
director of the Clermont I expect to be content with a 
fair profit on my stock in the company.” 

“ He’s modest,” Carroll commented. ** What he 
means is that he doesn’t propose to augment that profit 
by taking advantage of his position.” 

“ It’s a creditable idea, though I’m no sure it’s as 
common as might be desired. While I have to thank 
ye for it, I would not consider the explanation alto¬ 
gether necessary.” Nairn’s eyes twinkled for a mo¬ 
ment, and then he turned seriously to Vane. ‘‘ Now 
we come to another point — the company’s a small 
one, the mine is doing satisfactorily, and the moment’s 
favorable for the floating of mineral properties. If 
we got an option on the half-developed claims near 
the Clermont and went into the market, it’s likely that 
an issue of new stock would meet with the favor of 
investors.” 

“ I suppose so,” Vane responded. “ I’ll support 


150 VANE OF THE TIMBERLANDS 

such a scheme when I can see how an increased capital 
could be used to advantage and am convinced about 
the need for a smelter. At present that’s not the 
case.” 

I mentioned it as a duty — ye’ll hear more of it. 
For the rest, I’m inclined to agree with ye.” 

A few minutes later, Nairn went into the house with 
Carroll, and as they entered he glanced at his com¬ 
panion. 

In the present instance, Mr. Vane’s views are 
sound,” he said. “ But I see difficulties before him 
in his business career.” 

** So do I,” smiled Carroll. ‘‘ When he grapples 
with them it will be by a frontal attack.” 

A bit of compromise is judicious now and then.” 

‘‘ In a general way, it’s not likely to appeal to 
Vane. When he can’t get through by direct means, 
there’ll be something wrecked. You’d better under¬ 
stand what kind of man he is.” 

Nairn made a sign of concurrence. 

It’s no the first time I’ve been enlightened upon 
the point.” 

Shortly after they had disappeared, Miss Horsfield 
came out of another door, and Vane rose when she 
approached him. He had always found her a pleasant 
companion. 

“ Mrs. Nairn told me I would find you and the 
others on the veranda,” she informed him. ‘‘ She said 
she would join you presently. It is too fine an eve¬ 
ning to stay in.” 

“ I’m alone, as you see. Nairn and Carroll have 
just deserted me; but I can’t complain. What pleases 
me most about this house is that you can do what 


IN VANCOUVER 


151 

you like in it, and — within limits — the same thing 
applies to this city.” 

Jessy laughed as she sank gracefully into the chair 
he drew forward. She was, as a rule, deliberate in 
her movements, and her pose was usually an effective 
one. 

Yes,” she replied; “ I think that would please you. 
But how long have you been back ? ” 

A fortnight, yesterday.” 

There was a hint of reproach in Jessy’s glance. 

Then I think Mrs. Nairn might have brought you 
over to see us.” 

Vane wondered whether she meant that she was sur¬ 
prised that he had not come of his own accord. He 
felt mildly flattered. She was interesting, and knew 
how to listen sympathetically, as well as how to talk, 
and she was also a lady of station in the western city. 

“ I was away at the mine a good deal of the time,” 
he explained. 

“ I wonder if you are sorry to get back? ” 

Turning a little. Vane indicated the climbing city, 
rising tier on tier above its water-front; and then the 
broad expanse of blue inlet and the faint white line 
of towering snow. 

Wouldn’t anything I could say in praise of Van¬ 
couver be a trifle superfluous ? ” he asked. 

Jessy recognized that he had parried her question 
neatly, but this did not deter her. She was anxious 
to learn whether he had felt any regret at leaving 
England, or, to be more concise, if there was anybody 
in that country from whom he had reluctantly parted. 
She admitted that the man attracted her. There was 
a breezy freshness about him which he had brought 


IS2 VANE OF THE TIMBERLANDS 

from the rocks and woods, and though she was ac¬ 
quainted with a number of young men whose con¬ 
versation was characterized by snap and sparkle, they 
needed toning down. This miner was set apart from 
them by something which he had doubtless acquired 
in youth in the older land. 

‘‘ That wasn’t quite what I meant,” she returned. 
‘‘ We don’t always want to be flattered. I’m in search 
of information. You told me that you had been eight 
or nine years in this country, and life must be rather 
different yonder. How did it and the people you be¬ 
long to strike you after the absence? ” 

It’s diflicult to explain,” Vane replied with an air 
of amused reflection which hinted that he meant to 
get away from the point. On the whole, I think 
I’m more interested in the question as to how I struck 
them. It’s curious that whereas some people here 
insist on considering me English, I’ve a suspicion that 
they looked upon me as a typical Colonial there.” 

One wouldn’t like to think you resented it.” 

How could I ? This land sheltered me when I 
was an outcast; it provided me with a living, widened 
rny views, and set me on my feet.” 

“Ah!” murmured Jessy, “you are the kind we 
don’t mind taking in. The others go back and try 
to forget us, or abuse us. But you haven’t given me 
very much information yet.” 

“Well,” drawled Vane, “the best comparison is 
supplied by my first remark — that in this city you 
can do what you like. You’re rather fenced in yon¬ 
der. If you’re of a placid disposition, that, no doubt, 
is comforting, because it shuts out unpleasant things. 
On the other hand, if you happen to be restless and 


IN VANCOUVER 


153 

active, the fences are inconvenient, for you can’t al¬ 
ways climb over — and it is not considered proper to 
break them down. Still, having admitted that. I’m 
proud of the old land. If one has means and will 
conform, it’s the finest country in the world! It’s 
only the fences that irritate me.” 

** Fences would naturally be obnoxious to you. 
But we have some here.” 

“ They’re generally built loose, of split-rails, and not 
nailed. An energetic man can pull off a bar or two 
and stride over. If it’s necessary, he can afterward 
put them up again, and there’s no harm done.” 

‘‘ Would you do the latter? ” 

Vane’s expression changed. 

No. I think if there were anything good on the 
other side. I’d widen the gap so that the less agile 
and the needy could crawl through.” He smiled at 
her. You see, I owe some of them a good deal. 
They were the only friends I had when I first tramped, 
jaded and footsore, about the Province.” 

Jessy was pleased with his answer. She had heard 
of the free hospitality of the bush choppers, and she 
thought it was a graceful thing that he should ac¬ 
knowledge his debt to them. She was also pleased 
that she could lead him on to talk unreservedly. 

Now at last you’ll be content to rest a while,” 
she suggested. ‘‘ I dare say you deserve it.” 

‘‘ It’s strange that you should say that, because just 
before you came out of the house I was thinking that 
I’d sat still long enough. It’s a thing that gets mon¬ 
otonous. One must keep going on.” 

‘‘ Take care that you don’t walk over a precipice 
some day when you have left all the fences behind. 


154 VANE OF THE TIMBERLANDS 

But I’ve kept you from your meditations, and I had 
better see if Mrs. Nairn is coming.” 

He was sitting alone, lighting a cigar, when he no¬ 
ticed a girl whose appearance seemed familiar in the 
road below. Moving along the veranda, he recog¬ 
nized her as Kitty, and hastily crossed the lawn to¬ 
ward her. She was accompanied by a young man 
whom Vane had once or twice seen in the city, and 
she greeted him with evident pleasure. 

‘‘ Tom,” she introduced, when they had exchanged 
a few words, “ this is Mr. Vane.” Turning to Vane 
she added: “ Mr. Drayton.” 

Vane liked the man’s face and manner. He shook 
hands with him, and then looked back at Kitty. 

‘‘ What are you doing now; and how are little Elsie 
and her mother? ” 

Kitty’s face clouded. 

‘‘ Mrs. Marvin’s dead. Elsie’s with some friends 
at Spokane, and I think she’s well looked after. I’ve 
given up the stage. Tom ”— she explained shyly — 

didn’t like it. Now I’m with some people at a ranch 
near the Fraser, on the Westminster road. There are 
two or three children, and I’m very fond of them.” 

‘‘ She won’t be there long,” Drayton interposed. 

I’ve wanted to meet you for some time, Mr. Vane. 
They told me at the office that you were away.” 

Vane smiled comprehendingly. 

‘‘ I suppose my congratulations will not be out of 
place? Won’t you ask me to the wedding? ” 

Kitty blushed. 

‘‘Will you come?” 

“ Try!” 


IN VANCOUVER 


155 

‘‘ There’s nobody we would rather see,” declared 
Drayton. “ I’m heavily in your debt, Mr. Vane.” 

“ Pshaw! ” rejoined Vane. ‘‘ Come to see me any 
time — to-morrow, if you can manage it.” 

Drayton said that he would do so, and shortly after¬ 
ward he and Kitty moved away. Vane turned back 
across the lawn; but he was not aware that Jessy 
Horsfield had watched the meeting from the veranda 
and had recognized Kitty, whom she had once seen 
at the station. She had already ascertained that the 
girl had arrived in Vancouver in Vane’s company, and, 
in view of the opinion she had formed of him, this 
somewhat puzzled her; but she decided that one must 
endeavor to be charitable. Besides, having closely 
watched the little group, she was inclined to believe 
from the way Vane shook hands with the man that 
there was no danger to be apprehended from Kitty. 


CHAPTER XIII 


A NEW PROJECT 


ANE was sitting alone in the room set apart for 



▼ the Clermont Company in Nairn’s office when 
Drayton was shown in. He took the chair Vane in¬ 
dicated and lighted a cigar the latter gave him. 

Now,” he began with some diffidence, “ you cut 
me off short when I met you the other day, and one 
of my reasons for coming over was to get through 
with what I was saying then. It’s just this — I owe 
you a good deal for taking care of Kitty; she’s very 
grateful and thinks no end of you. I want to say 
I’ll always feel that you have a claim on me.” 

Vane smiled at him. It was evident that Kitty had 
taken her lover into her confidence with regard to her 
trip aboard the sloop, and that she had done so said 
a good deal for her. He thought one might have ex¬ 
pected a certain amount of half-jealous resentment, or 
even faint suspicion, on the man’s part; but there was 
no sign of this. Drayton believed in Kitty, and that 
was strongly in his favor. 

‘‘ It didn’t cost me any trouble,” Vane replied. 
‘‘ We were coming to Vancouver, anyway.” 

Drayton’s embarrassment became more obvious. 

“ It cost you some money — there were the tickets. 
Now I feel that I have to—” 

‘‘ Nonsense! When you are married to Miss Blake, 


A NEW PROJECT 


157 

you can pay me back, if it will be a relief to you. 
When’s the wedding to be ? ” 

“ In a couple of months,” answered Drayton. He 
saw that it would be useless to protest. “ I’m a clerk 
in the Winstanley mills, and as one of the staff is 
going. I’ll get a move up then. We are to be married 
as soon as I do.” 

He said a little more on the same subject, and then 
after a few moments’ silence he added: 

“ I wonder if the Clermont business keeps your 
hands full, Mr. Vane?” 

‘‘ It doesn’t. It’s a fact I’m beginning to regret.” 

Drayton appeared to consider. 

‘‘ Well,” he said, ‘‘ people seem to regard you as a 
rising man with snap in him, and there’s a matter I 
might, perhaps, bring before you. Let me explain. 
I’m a clerk on small pay, but I’ve taken an interest 
outside my routine work in the lumber trade of this 
Province and its subsidiary branches. I figured any 
knowledge I could pick up might stand me in some 
money some day. So far ”— he smiled ruefully — 
“ it hasn’t done so.” 

“ Go on,” prompted Vane. His curiosity was 
aroused. 

It has struck me that pulping spruce — paper 
spruce — is likely to be scarce presently. The supply’s 
not unlimited and the world’s consumption is going 
up by jumps.” 

‘‘ There’s a good deal of timber you could use for 
pulp, in British Columbia alone,” Vane interposed. 

“ Sure. But there’s not a very great deal that could 
be milled into high-grade paper pulp; and it’s getting 
rapidly worked out in most other countries. Then, 


158 VANE OF THE TIMBERLANDS 

as a rule, it’s mixed up with firs, cedars and cypresses; 
and that means the cutting of logging roads to each 
cluster of milling trees. There’s another point — a 
good deal of the spruce lies back from water or a 
railroad, and in some cases it would be costly to bring 
in a milling plant or to pack the pulp out.” 

“ That’s obvious; anyway, where you would have 
to haul every pound of freight over a breakneck di¬ 
vide.” 

Drayton leaned forward confidentially. 

Then if one struck high-grade paper spruce — a 
whole valley full of it — with water power and easy 
access to the sea, there ought to be money in the 
thing? ” 

‘‘Yes,” Vane answered with growing interest; 
“ that strikes me as very probable.” 

“ I believe I could put you on the track of such 
a valley.” 

Vane looked at him thoughtfully. 

“ We’d better understand each other. Do you want 
to sell me your knowledge? And have you offered 
it to anybody else ? ” 

His companion answered with the candor he ex¬ 
pected. 

“ Kitty and I aren’t going to find it easy to get 
along — rents are high in this city. I want to give 
her as much as I can; but I’m willing to leave you to 
do the square thing. The Winstanley people have 
their hands full and won’t look at any outside matter, 
and the one or two people I’ve spoken to don’t seem 
anxious to consider it. It’s mighty hard for a little 
man to launch a project.” 

“ It is,” Vane agreed sympathetically. 


A NEW PROJECT 


159 


Then,” Drayton continued, the idea’s not my 
own. It was a mineral prospector — a relative of 
mine — who struck the valley on his last trip. He’s 
an old man, and he came down played out and sick. 
Now I guess he’s slowly dying.” He paused a mo¬ 
ment. Would you like to see him? ” 

‘‘ I’ll go with you now, if it’s convenient,” Vane 
replied. 

Drayton said that he might spare another half-hour 
without getting into trouble, and they crossed the city 
to where a row of squalid frame shacks stood on its 
outskirts. In the one they entered, a gaunt man with 
grizzled hair lay upon a rickety bed. A glance showed 
Vane that the man was very frail, and the harsh 
cough that he broke into as the colder air from out¬ 
side flowed in made the fact clearer. Drayton, hastily 
shutting the door and explaining the cause of the visit, 
motioned Vane to sit down. 

I’ve heard of you,” said the prospector, fixing his 
eyes on Vane. “ You’re the man who located the 
Clermont — and put the project through. You had 
the luck. I’ve been among the ranges half my life — 
and you can see how much I’ve made of it! When 
I struck a claim that was worth anything somebody 
else got the money.” 

Vane had reasons for believing that this was not 
an uncommon experience. 

“ Well,” the man continued, “ you look straight — 
and I’ve got to take some chances. It’s my last stake. 
We’ll get down to business. I’ll tell you about that 
spruce.” 

He spoke for a few minutes, and then asked 
abruptly: 


i6o VANE OF THE TIMBERLANDS 


“ What are you going to offer? ” 

Vane had not been certain that he would make any 
offer at all; but, as had befallen him once or twice 
before, the swift decision flashed instinctively into 
his mind. 

‘‘If I find that the timber and its location come 
up to your account of it, Fll pay you so many dollars 
down — whatever we can agree on — when I get my 
lease from the land office. Then I’ll make another 
equal payment the day we start the mill. But I don’t 
bind myself to record the timber or to put up a mill, 
unless I’m convinced that it’s worth while.” 

“ I’d rather take less money and have a small share 
in the concern; and Drayton must stand in.” 

“ It’s a question of terms,” Vane replied. “ I’ll 
consider your views.” 

They discussed it for a while, and when they had at 
length arrived at a provisional understanding, the pros¬ 
pector made a sign of acquiescence. 

“ We’ll let it go at that; but the thing will take time, 
and I’ll never get the money. If you exercise your 
option, you’ll sure pay it down to Seely ? ” 

“ Celia’s his daughter,” Drayton explained. “ He 

has no one else. She’s a waitress at the-House.” 

He named a hotel of no great standing in the city. 
“ Comes home at nights, and looks after him as best 
she can.” 

Vane glanced round the room. It was evident that 
Celia’s earnings were small; but he noticed several 
things which suggested that she had lavished loving 
care upon the sick man, probably at the cost of severe 
self-denial. This was what he would have expected, 
for he had spent most of his nine years in Canada 



A NEW PROJECT i6i 

among the people who toil the hardest for the least 
reward. 

‘‘Yes,” he answered; “I’ll promise that. But, as 
I pointed out, while we have agreed on the two pay¬ 
ments, I reserve the right of deciding what share your 
daughter and Drayton are to have, within the limits 
sketched out. I can’t fix it definitely until I’ve seen 
the timber — you’ll have to trust me.” 

The prospector once more looked at him steadily, 
and then implied by a gesture that he was satisfied. 
He was not in a position to dictate terms, but his 
confidence had its effect on the man in whom he re¬ 
posed it. 

“ There’s another thing. You’ll do all you can to 
find that spruce ? ” 

“ Yes,” Vane promised. 

The man fumbled under his pillow and produced 
a piece cut out from a map of the Province, with 
rough pencil notes on the back of it. 

“ It was on my last prospecting trip I found the 
spruce,” he said. “ I’d been looking round, and I 
figured I’d strike down to the coast over the range. 
The creeks were full up with snow-water, and as I 
was held up here and there before I could get across, 
provisions began to run short. Then I fell down a 
gulch and hurt my knee, and as I had to leave my 
tent and it rained most of the while, I lay in the 
wet at nights, half-fed, with my knee getting worse. 
By and by I fell sick; but I had to get out of the 
mountains, and I was pushing on for the straits when 
I struck the valley where the spruce is. After that, 
I got kind of muddled in the head, but I went down 
a long valley on an easy grade and struck some Siwash 


i 62 vane of the timberlands 


curing the last of the salmon. The trouble is, I was 
too sick to figure exactly where the small inlet they 
were camped by lies. They took me back with them 
to their rancherie — you could find that — and sailed 
me across to Comox. I came down on a steamboat, 
and the doctor told me Td made my last journey.” 

Vane could sympathize. The narrative had been 
crudely matter-of-fact, but he had been out on the 
prospecting trail often enough to fill in the details 
the sick man omitted. He had slept in the rain, very 
scantily fed, and he could picture the starving man 
limping along in an agony of pain and exhaustion, 
with an injured knee, over boulders and broken rock 
and through dense tangles of underbrush strewed with 
mighty fallen logs. 

“How far was the valley from the inlet?” he 
asked. 

“ I can’t tell you. I think I was three days on the 
trail; but it might have been more. I was too sick 
to remember. Anyway, there was a creek you could 
run the logs down.” 

“Well, how far was the inlet from the rancherie? ” 

“ I was in the canoe part of one night and some of 
the next day. I can’t get it any clearer. We had a 
fair breeze. Guess thirty miles wouldn’t be far out.” 

“ That’s something to go upon. How much does 
your daughter earn ? ” 

It was an abrupt change of subject, but the man 
answered as Vane had expected. The girl’s wages 
might maintain her economically, but it was difficult 
to see how she could provide for her sick father. 
The latter seemed to guess Vane’s thoughts, for he 
spoke again. 


A NEW PROJECT 


163 

‘‘If I’d known I was done for when I was up in 
the bush, I wouldn’t have pushed on quite so fast/’ 
he said with expressive simplicity. 

Vane rose. 

“If Drayton will come along with me, I’ll send him 
back with a hundred dollars. It’s part of the first 
payment. Your getting it now should make things 
a little easier for Celia.” 

“ But you haven’t located the spruce yet! ” 

“ I’m going to locate it, if the thing’s anyway pos¬ 
sible.” Vane shook hands with the man. “ I ex¬ 
pect to get off up the straits very shortly.” 

The prospector looked at him with relief and grat¬ 
itude in his eyes. 

“ You’re white — and I guess you’d be mighty hard 
to beat! ” 

When they reached the rutted street, which was 
bordered on one side by great fir stumps, Drayton 
glanced at Vane with open admiration. 

“ I’m glad I brought you across. You have a way 
of getting hold of people — making them believe in 
you. Hartley hasn’t a word in writing, but he knows 
you mean to act square with him. Kitty felt the 
same thing — it was why she came down in the sloop 
with you.” 

Vane smiled, though there was a trace of embar¬ 
rassment in his manner. 

“ Now that you mention it, I don’t think Hartley 
was wise; and you were equally confiding. We have 
only arrived at a rather indefinite understanding about 
your share.” 

“ We’ll leave it at that. I haven’t struck anybody 
else in this city who would hear about the thing. 


i64 vane of the TIMBERLANDS 

Anyway, I’d prefer a few shares in the concern, as 
mentioned, instead of money. If you get the thing on 
foot, I guess it will go.” 

‘‘ Won’t they raise trouble at the mill about your 
staying out?” Vane inquired. “We have still to go 
for that hundred dollars.” 

Drayton owned that it might be advisable to hurry, 
and they set off for the business quarter of the city. 

During the remainder of the day Vane was busy 
on board the sloop, but in the evening he walked over 
to Horsfield’s house with Mrs. Nairn and found Jessy 
and her brother at home. Horsfield presently took 
Vane to his smoking-room. 

“ About that smelter,” he began. “ Haven’t you 
made up your mind yet? The thing’s been hanging 
fire a long while.” 

“ Isn’t it a matter for the board? ” Vane asked sug¬ 
gestively. “ There are several directors.” 

Horsfield laughed. 

“ We’ll face the fact: they’ll do what you decide 
on.” 

Vane did not reply to this. 

“ Well,” he said, “ at present we couldn’t keep a 
smelter big enough to be economical going, and I’m 
doubtful whether we would get much ore from the 
other properties you were talking about to Nairn.” 

“ Did he say it was my idea? ” 

“ He didn’t; I’d reasons for assuming it. Those 
properties, however, are of no account.” 

Horsfield made no comment but waited expectantly, 
and Vane went on: 

“If it seems possible that we can profitably increase 
our output later on, by means of further capital, we’ll 


A NEW PROJECT 165 

put up a smelter. But in that case it might be eco¬ 
nomical to do the work ourselves/’ 

“ Who would superintend it ? ” 

‘‘ I would, if necessary, with the assistance of an 
engineer used to such plant.” 

Horsfield smiled in a significant manner. 

‘‘Aren’t you inclined to take hold of too much? 
When you have plenty in your hands, it’s good policy 
to leave a little for somebody else. Sometimes the 
person who benefits is willing to reciprocate.” 

The hint was plain, and Nairn had said sufficient on 
another occasion to make it clearer; but Vane did not 
respond. 

“If we gave the work out, it would be on an open 
tender,” he declared. “ There would be no reason 
why you shouldn’t make a bid.” 

Horsfield found it difficult to conceal his disgust. 
He had no desire to bid on an open tender, which 
would prevent his obtaining anything beyond the mar¬ 
ket price. 

“ The question must stand over until I come back,” 
Vane went on. “ I’m going up the west coast shortly 
and may be away some time.” 

They left the smoking-room shortly afterward, and 
when they strolled back to the others. Vane sat down 
near Jessy. 

“ I hear you are going away,” she began. 

“ Yes. I’m going to look for pulping timber.” 

“But what do you want with pulping timber?” 

“ It can sometimes be converted into money.” 

“ Isn’t there every prospect of your obtaining a good 
deal already? Are you never satisfied? ” 

“ I suppose I’m open to take as much as I can get,” 


i66 VANE OF THE TIMBERLANDS 


Vane answered with an air of humorous reflection. 
** The reason probably is that I’ve had very little until 
lately. Still, I don’t think it’s altogether the money 
that is driving me.” 

‘‘If it’s the restlessness you once spoke of, you 
ought to put a check on it and try to be content. 
There’s danger in the longing to be always going on.” 

“ It’s a common idea that a small hazard gives a 
thing a spice.” 

Jessy shot a swift glance at him, and she had, as he 
noticed, expressive eyes. 

“ Be careful,” she advised. “ After all, it’s wiser 
to keep within safe limits and not climb over too many 
fences.” She paused and her voice grew softer. 
“ You have friends who would be sorry if you got 
hurt.” 

The man was stirred. She was alluring, physically, 
while something in her voice had its effect on him. 
Evelyn, however, still occupied his thoughts and he 
smiled at his companion. 

“ Thank you. I like to believe it.” 

Then Mrs. Nairn and Horsfield crossed the room 
toward them and the conversation became general. 


CHAPTER XIV 

VANE SAILS NORTH 


/^N the evening of Vane’s departure he walked out 
of Nairn’s room just as dusk was falling. His 
host was with him, and when they entered an adjacent 
room the elder man’s face relaxed into a smile as 
he saw Jessy Horsfield talking to his wife. Vane 
stopped a few minutes to speak to them, and it was 
Jessy who gave the signal for the group to break up. 

‘‘ I must go,” she said to Mrs. Nairn. “ I’ve al¬ 
ready stayed longer than I intended. I’ll let you have 
those patterns back in a day or two.” 

“ Mair patterns! ” Nairn exclaimed with dry amuse¬ 
ment. It’s the second lot this week! Ye’re surely 
industrious, Jessy. Women”—he addressed Vane 
—‘‘ have curious notions of economy. They will 
spend a month knitting a thing to give to somebody 
wEo does no want it, when they could buy it for half 
a dollar, done better by machinery. I’m no saying, 
however, that it does no keep them out of mischief.” 

Jessy laughed. 

I don’t think many of us are industrious in that 
way now. After all, isn’t it a pity that so many of 
the beautiful old handicrafts are dying out? No 
loom, for instance, could turn out some of the things 
your wife makes. They’re matchless.” 

‘‘ She has an aumrie — ye can translate it bureau — 

167 


i68 VANE OF THE TIMBERLANDS 


full of them. It's no longer customary to scatter 
them over the house. If ye mean to copy the lot, ye 
have a task that will take ye most a lifetime." 

Mrs. Nairn’s smile was half a sigh. 

‘‘ There were no books and no many amusements 
when I was young. We sat through the long winter 
forenights, counting stitches, in the old gray house at 
Burn foot, under the Scottish moors. That, my dear, 
was thirty years ago." 

She shook hands with Vane as he left the house 
with Jessy, and standing on the stoop she watched 
them cross the lawn. 

‘‘ I’m thinking ye’ll no see so much of Jessy for the 
next few weeks," Nairn remarked dryly. ‘‘ Has she 
shown ye any of yon knickknacks when she has finished 
them?" 

His wife shook her head at him reproachfully. 

‘‘ Alic," she admonished, “ ye’re now and then hasty 
in jumping at conclusions.” 

“ Maybe. I’m no infallible, but the fault ye men¬ 
tion is no common in the land where we were born. 
I’m no denying that Jessy has enterprise, but how 
far it will carry her in this case is mair than I can 
tell.” 

He smiled as he recalled a scene at the station some 
time ago, and Mrs. Nairn looked up at him. 

What is amusing you, Alic ? " 

It was just a bit idea no worth the mentioning. 
I think it would no count." He paused, and added 
with an air of reflection: “ A young man’s heart is 

whiles inconstant and susceptible." 

Mrs. Nairn, ignoring the last remark, went into the 
house. In the meanwhile Jessy and Vane walked down 


VANE SAILS NORTH 169 

the road, until they stopped at a gate. Jessy held out 
her hand. 

** Tni glad I met you to-night,” she said. ** You 
will allow me to wish you every success ? ” 

There was a softness in her voice which Vane 
wholly failed to notice, though he was aware that she 
was pretty and artistically dressed. This was possi¬ 
bly why she made him think of Evelyn. 

‘‘ Thank you,” he replied. ‘‘ It’s nice to feel that 
one has the sympathy of one’s friends.” 

He turned away, and Jessy stood watching him as 
he strode down the road, noticing, though it was get¬ 
ting dark, the free vigor of his movements. There 
was, she thought, something in his fine poise and 
swing that set him apart from other men she knew. 
None of them walked or carried himself as Vane did. 
She was, however, forced to recognize that although 
he had answered her courteously, there had been no 
warmth in his words. As a matter of fact. Vane just 
then was conscious of a slight relief. He admired 
Jessy, and he liked Nairn and his wife; but they be¬ 
longed to the city; and he was glad, on the whole, to 
leave it behind. He was going back to the shadowy 
woods, where men lived naturally. The lust of fresh 
adventure was strong in him. 

On reaching the wharf he found Kitty, with Celia 
Hartley, whom he had not met hitherto, awaiting him 
with Carroll and Drayton. A boat lay at the steps, 
and he and Carroll rowed the others off to the sloop. 
The moon was just rising from behind the black firs 
at the inner end of the inlet, and a little cold wind 
that blew down across them, faintly scented with 
resinous fragrance, stirred the water into tiny ripples 


170 VANE OF THE TIMBERLANDS 

that flashed into silvery radiance here and there. 
Lights gleamed on the forestays of vessels whose tall 
spars were etched in high, black tracery against the 
dusky blue of the sky, athwart which there streamed 
the long smoke trail of a steamer passing out through 
the Narrows. 

Kitty, urged by Drayton, broke into a little song 
with a smooth, swinging cadence that went harmoni¬ 
ously with the measured splash of oars; and Vane 
enjoyed it all. The city was dropping behind him; 
he felt himself at liberty. Carroll was a tried comrade; 
the others were simple people whose views were more 
or less his own. Besides, it was a glorious night and 
Kitty sang charmingly. 

A soft glow shone out from the skylights to wel¬ 
come them as they approached the sloop. When, 
laughing gaily, they clambered on board, Carroll led 
the way to the tiny saloon, which just held them all. 

It was brightly lighted by two nickeled lamps; flowers 
were fastened against the paneling, and clusters of 
them stood upon the table, which was covered with a 
spotless cloth. What was even more unusual, it was 
daintily set out with good china and silver. Vane 
took the head of it, and Carroll modestly explained 
that only part of the supper had been prepared by 
himself. The rest he had obtained in the city, out of 
regard for the guests, who, he added, had not lived ' 
in the bush. Presently Vane, who had been busy 
talking to the others, turned to Celia. 

“ Now that we can see each other better, I think 
you ought to recognize me. Miss Hartley.” 

The girl was young and attractive, and she blushed 
prettily. 


VANE SAILS NORTH 


171 

“ I do, of course; but I thought I’d wait until I saw 
whether you remembered me.” 

“ Why should you wait ? ” 

Celia looked confused. 

“ It’s two or three years since I’ve seen you; and 
I’ve left that place.” 

Vane laughed. He had made her acquaintance at a 
workman’s hotel where she was engaged, when he 
was differently situated, and he fancied that she was 
diffident about recalling the fact, now that he was ob¬ 
viously prosperous. 

“ Well,” he responded, “ it’s only fair that I should 
give you supper, for once. I’ve always had an idea that 
you brought me more dessert than I was really enti¬ 
tled to.” 

‘‘ It was because you were — civil,” Celia explained, 
though her expression suggested that the word did 
not convey all she meant. Still, I can’t complain of 
the rest of the boys.” 

“ I wonder if you remember how astonished you 
were the first time you brought me supper ? ” 

Celia smiled and Vane turned to the others. 

‘‘ I’d just come in on a schooner. We’d had wild 
weather, during which the galley fire was generally 
washed out and the cook had some difficulty in get¬ 
ting us anything to eat. Miss Hartley brought me a 
double supply. She must have thought I needed it.” 

There was mighty little left,” the girl retorted. 

The others laughed, but Vane went on, in a remi¬ 
niscent manner: 

“ I was wearing a pair of old gum-boots with one 
toe torn off, and my jacket was split right up the back. 
When I went up-town the next day, people looked at 


172 VANE OF THE TIMBERLANDS 

me suspiciously. The trade of the Province is pretty 
bad when you see men in Vancouver dressed as I was. 
The fact that sticks in my mind most clearly, however, 
is that on the following morning, when I’d arranged 
to see a man who might give me a job, Miss Hartley 
offered to sew up the tear for me. I was uncommonly 
glad to let her.” 

Celia colored again, but it was evident that she was 
not displeased. Kitty smiled at him, and there was 
appreciation in Drayton’s eyes. 

Were you surprised when she offered to sew it? ” 
Kitty inquired. 

“ Now, you have helped me on to what I wanted 
to say. I wasn’t surprised — how could I be? The 
kind of people I’d met out here had seldom much 
money, or much of anything; but I had generally less, 
and they held out a hand when I needed it and gave 
me what they had. It stirs me in a way that almost 
hurts to think of it.” 

Then Carroll started the general chatter, which went 
on after the meal was finished, and nobody appeared 
to notice that Kitty sat with her hand in Drayton’s 
amid the happy laughter. Even Celia, who had her 
grief to grapple with, smiled bravely. Vane had 
given them champagne, the best in the city, though 
they drank sparingly; and at last, when Celia made a 
move to rise, Drayton stood up with his glass in his 
hand. 

We must go, but there’s something to be done,” 
he announced. “ It’s to thank our host and wish him 
success. It’s a little boat he’s sailing in, but she’s 
carrying a big freight, if our good wishes count for 
anything.” 


VANE SAILS NORTH 


173 


They emptied the glasses, and Vane replied: 

‘‘ My success is yours. You have all a stake in the 
venture, and that piles up my responsibility. If the 
spruce is still in existence, IVe got to find it.” 

“ And you’re going to find it! ” declared Drayton. 
‘‘ It’s a sure thing! ” 

Vane divided the flowers between Celia and Kitty, 
but when they went up on deck Kitty raised one bunch 
and kissed it. 

“ Tom won’t mind,” she laughed. ‘‘ Take that one 
back from Celia and me — for luck.” 

They got down into the boat, and Carroll handed 
them a basket of crockery and table linen which Dray¬ 
ton promised to have delivered at the hotel. Then, 
while the girls called back to Vane, Drayton rowed 
away, and the boat was fading out of sight when 
Kitty’s voice once more reached the men on board. 
She was singing a well-known Jacobite ballad. 

Carroll laughed softly. 

“ It strikes me as appropriate,” he said. “ Consid¬ 
ering what his Highland followers suffered on his ac¬ 
count and what the women thought of him, some of 
the virtues they credited the Young Chevalier with 
must have been real.” He raised his hand. “ You 
may as well listen! ” 

Vane stood still a moment, with the blood hot in 
his face, as the refrain rang more clearly across the 
sparkling water: 

“ Better lo’ed ye cannot be — 

Will ye no come back to me ? ” 

“ I don’t know whether you feel flattered, but I’ve 
an idea that Kitty and Celia would go through fire 


174 VANE OF THE TIMBERLANDS 

for you; and Drayton seems to share their confidence,” 
Carroll went on in his most matter-of-fact tone. 

“ Celia mended my jacket,” Vane replied. “ I got 
a month’s work as a result of it.” Then he began to 
shake the mainsail loose. I believe we both went 
rather far in our talk to-night; but we have got to find 
the spruce! ” 

“ So you have said already. Hadn’t you better 
heave the boom up with the topping lift? ” 

They got the mainsail onto her, broke out the an¬ 
chor and set the jib; and as the boat slipped away be¬ 
fore a freshening breeze Vane sat at the helm while 
Carroll stood on the foredeck, coiling up the gear. 
The moon was higher now; the broad sail gleamed a 
silvery gray; the ripples, which were getting bigger, 
flashed and sparkled as they streamed back from the 
bows; and the lights of the city dropped fast astern. 
Vane was conscious of a keen exhilaration. He had 
started on a new adventure. He was going back to 
the bush; and he knew that, no matter how his life 
might change, the wilderness would always call to him. 
In spite of this, however, he was, as he had said, con¬ 
scious of an unusual responsibility. Hitherto he had 
fought for what he could get, for himself; but now 
Kitty’s future partly depended on his efforts, and his 
success would be of vast importance to Celia. 

He had a very friendly feeling toward both the girls. 
Indeed, all the women he had met of late had attracted 
him, in different ways. It was hard to believe that 
any of them possessed unlovable qualities, though 
there was not one among them to compare with Eve¬ 
lyn. Whatever he liked most in the others — intelli¬ 
gence, beauty, tenderness, courage — reminded him of 


VANE SAILS NORTH 


175 

her. Kitty, he thought, belonged to the hearth; she 
personified gentleness and solace; it would be her 
part to diffuse cheerful comfort in the home. Jessy 
would make an ambitious man’s companion; a clever 
counselor, who would urge him forward if he lagged. 
Celia he had not placed yet; but Evelyn stood apart 
from all. 

She appealed less to his senses and intellect than 
she did to a sublimated something in the depths of his 
nature; and it somehow seemed fitting that her image 
should materialize before his mental vision as the 
sloop drove along under the cloudless night sky while 
the moonlight poured down glamour on the shining 
water. Evelyn harmonized with such things as these. 

It was true that she had repulsed him; but that, he 
felt, was what he deserved for entering into an alli¬ 
ance against her with her venial father. He was 
glad now that he had acquiesced in her dismissal of him, 
since to have stood firm and broken her to his will 
would have brought disaster upon both of them. He 
felt that she had not wholly escaped him, after all; by 
and by he would go back and seek her favor by dif¬ 
ferent means. Then she might, perhaps, forgive him 
and listen. 

The breeze came down fresher as they drove out 
through the Narrows. Carroll had gone below; and, 
brushing his thoughts aside. Vane busied himself haul¬ 
ing in some of the mainsheet, while the water splashed 
more loudly beneath the bows. The great black firs 
rolled by in somber masses over his port hand, and 
presently the last of the lights were blotted out. He 
was alone, flitting swiftly and smoothly across the 
glittering sea. 


CHAPTER XV 


THE FIRST MISADVENTURE 

T he breeze freshened fiercely with the red and 
fiery dawn. Vane, who had gone below, was 
advised of it by being flung off the locker in the 
saloon, where he sat with coffee and crackers before 
him. The jug, overturning, spilled its contents upon 
him, and the crackers were scattered, but he picked 
himself up in haste and scrambled out into the well. 
He found the sloop slanted over with a good deal of 
her lee deck submerged in rushing foam, and Carroll 
bracing himself against the strain upon the tiller. To 
windward, the sea looked as if it had been strewed 
with feathers, for there were flecks and blurs of white 
everywhere. 

“ ril let her come up when you’re ready! ” Carroll 
shouted. “ We’d better get some sail off her, if we 
mean to hold on to the mast! ” 

He thrust down his helm; and the sloop, forging 
round to windward, rose upright, with her heavy 
main-boom banging to and fro. After that, they 
were desperately busy for a few minutes. Vane 
wished that they had engaged a hand in Vancouver, 
instead of waiting to hire a Si wash somewhere up the 
coast. There was the headsail to haul to windward, 
which was difficult, and the mainsheet to get in; then 
the two men, standing on the slippery, inclined deck, 

176 


THE FIRST MISADVENTURE 177 

struggled hard to haul the canvas down to the boom. 
The jerking spar smote them in the ribs; once or 
twice the reefing tackle beneath it was torn from 
their hands; but they mastered the sail, tying two 
reefs in it, to reduce its size; and the craft drove 
away with her lee rail just awash. 

“ You’d better go down and get some crackers,” 
Vane advised his comrade. “ You’ll find them rolling 
up and down the floor. I spilled the coffee, but 
perhaps the kettle’s still on the stove. Anyhow, you 
may not have an opportunity later.” 

“ It looks like that,” Carroll agreed. “ The wind’s 
backing northward, and that means more of it before 
long. You can call, if you want me.” 

He disappeared below, and Vane sat at the helm 
with a frown on his face. An angry coppery glare 
streamed down upon the white-flecked water which 
gleamed in the lurid light. It was very cold, but 
there was a wonderful quality that set the blood 
tingling in the nipping air. Even upon the high 
peaks and in the trackless bush, one fails to find the 
bracing freshness that comes with the dawn at sea. 

Vane, however, knew that the breeze would in¬ 
crease and draw ahead, which was unfortunate, be¬ 
cause they would have to beat, fighting for every 
fathom they slowly made. There was no help for it, 
and he buttoned his jacket against the spray. By 
the time Carroll came up the sloop was plunging 
sharply, pitching showers of stinging brine all over 
her when the bows went down. They drove her at 
it stubbornly most of the day, making but little to 
windward, while the seas got bigger and whiter, 
until they had some trouble to keep the light boat 


178 VANE OF THE TIMBERLANDS 

they carried upon the deluged deck. At last, when 
she came bodily aft amid a frothing cascade which 
poured into the well, Vane brought the sloop round, 
and they stretched away to eastward, until they could 
let go the anchor in smooth water beneath a wall 
of rock. They were very wet, and were stiff with 
cold, for winter was drawing near. 

‘‘ We'll get supper,” said Vane. “ If the breeze 
drops a little at dusk, which is likely, we’ll go on 
again.” 

Having eaten little since dawn, they enjoyed the 
meal; and Carroll would have been content to re¬ 
main at anchor afterward. The tiny saloon was 
comfortably warm, and he thought it would be pleas¬ 
anter to lounge away the evening on a locker, with 
his pipe, than to sit amid the bitter spray at the 
helm. The breeze had fallen a little, but the firs in 
a valley ashore were still wailing loudly. Vane, 
however, was proof against his companion’s hints. 

‘‘ With a head wind, we’ll be some time working 
up to the rancherie, and then we have thirty miles 
of coast to search for the inlet Hartley reached. 
After that, there’s the valley to locate; he was un¬ 
certain how far it lay from the beach.” 

It couldn’t be very far. You wouldn’t expect a 
man who was sick and badly lame to make any great 
pace.” 

“ I can imagine a man, who knew he must reach 
the coast before he starved, making a pretty vigorous 
effort. If he were worked-up and desperate, the pain 
might turn him savage and drive him on, instead of 
stopping him. Do you remember the time we crossed 
the divide in the snow ? ” 


THE FIRST MISADVENTURE 179 

I could remember it, if I wanted to,” Carroll 
answered with a shiver. “ As it happens, that’s about 
the last thing I’m anxious to do.” 

“ The trouble is that there are a good many valleys 
in this strip of country, and we may have to try a 
number before we strike the right one. Winter’s 
not far off, and I can’t spend very much time over 
this search. As soon as the man we put in charge 
of the mine has tried his present system long enough 
to give us something to figure on, I want to see what 
can be done to increase our output. We haven’t 
marketed very much refined metal yet.” 

There’s no doubt that it would be advisable,” 
Carroll answered thoughtfully. “ As I’ve pointed 
out, you have spent a good deal of the cash you got 
when you turned the Clermont over to the company. 
In fact, that’s one reason why I didn’t try to head 
off this timber-hunting scheme. You can’t spend 
much over the search, and if the spruce comes up to 
expectations, you ought to get it back. It would be 
a fortunate change, after your extravagance in 
England.” 

Vane frowned. 

“ That’s a subject I don’t want to talk about. We’ll 
go up and see what the weather’s like.” 

Carroll shivered when they stood in the well. It 
was falling dusk, and the sky was a curious cold, 
shadowy blue. A nipping wind came down across 
the darkening firs ashore, but there was no doubt 
that it had fallen somewhat, and Carroll resigned 
himself when Vane began to pull the tiers off the 
mainsail. 

In a few minutes they were under way, the sloop 


i8o VANE OF THE TIMBERLANDS 


heading out toward open water with two reefs down 
in her mainsail, a gray and ghostly shape of slanted 
canvas that swept across the dim, furrowed plain 
of sea. By midnight the breeze was as strong as 
ever, but they had clear moonlight and they held on; 
the craft plunging with flooded decks through the 
white combers, while Carroll sat at the helm, bat¬ 
tered by spray and stung with cold. 

When Vane came up, an hour or two later, the sea 
was breaking viciously. Carroll would have put up 
his helm and run for shelter, had the decision been 
left to him; but he saw his comrade’s face in the 
moonlight and refrained from any suggestion of that 
nature. There was a spice of dogged obstinacy in 
Vane, which, although on the whole it made for 
success, occasionally drove him into needless diffi¬ 
culties. They held on; and soon after day broke, 
with its first red flush ominously high in the eastern 
sky, they stretched in toward the land, with a some¬ 
what sheltered bay opening up beyond a foam- 
fringed point ahead of them. Carroll glanced dubi¬ 
ously at the white turmoil in the midst of which 
black fangs of rock appeared. 

“Will she weather the point on this tack?” he 
asked. 

“She’ll have to! We’ll have smoother water to 
work through, once we’re round, and the tide’s help¬ 
ing her.” 

They drove on, though it occurred to Carroll that 
they were not opening up the bay very rapidly. The 
light was growing, and he could now discern the 
orderly phalanxes of white-topped combers that 
crumbled into a chaotic spouting on the point’s outer 


THE FIRST MISADVENTURE i8i 


end. It struck him that the sloop would not last 
long if she touched bottom there; but once more, 
after a glance at Vane’s face, he kept silent. After 
all. Vane was leader; and when he looked as he did 
then, he usually resented advice. The mouth of the 
bay grew wider, until Carroll could see most of the 
forest-girt shore on one side of it; but the surf 
upon the point was growing unpleasantly near. 
Wisps of spray whirled away from it and vanished 
among the scrubby firs clinging to the fissured crags 
behind. The sloop, however, was going to windward, 
for Vane was handling her with nerve and skill. She 
had almost cleared the point when there was a rattle 
and a bang inside of her. Carroll started. 

‘‘ It’s the centerboard coming up! It must have 
touched a boulder! ” 

Then jump down and lift it before it strikes 
another and bends! ” cried Vane. “ She’s far enough 
to windward to keep off the beach without it.” 

Carroll went below and hove up the centerboard, 
which projected several feet beneath the bottom of 
the craft; but he was not satisfied that the sloop was 
far enough off the beach, as Vane seemed to be, and 
he got out into the well as soon as possible. 

The worst of the surf was abreast of their quarter 
now, and less-troubled water stretched away ahead. 
Carroll had hardly noticed this, however, when there 
was a second heavy crash and the sloop stopped 
suddenly. The comber to windward that should 
have lifted her up, broke all over her, flinging the 
boat on deck upon the saloon skylight and pouring 
inches deep over the coaming into the well. Vane 
was hurled from the tiller. His wet face was 


182 VANE OF THE TIMBERLANDS 


smeared with blood, from a cut on his forehead, but 
he seized a big oar to shove the sloop off, when she 
swung upright, moved, and struck again. The fol¬ 
lowing sea hove her up; there was a third, less vio¬ 
lent, crash; and as Vane dropped the oar and grasped 
the helm, she suddenly shot ahead. 

She’ll go clear!” he shouted. “Jump below 
and see if she’s damaged! ” 

Carroll got no farther than the scuttle, for the 
saloon floorings on the depressed side were already 
awash, and he could hear an ominous splashing and 
gurgling. 

“ It’s pouring into her! ” he cried. 

“ Then, you’ll have to pump! ” 

“ We passed an opening some miles to lee. 
Wouldn’t it be better if you ran back there ? ” Carroll 
suggested. 

“ No! I won’t run a yard! There’s another 
inlet not far ahead and we’ll stand on until we reach 
it. I’d put her on the beach here, only that she’d 
go to pieces with the first shift of the wind to west¬ 
ward.” 

Carroll agreed with this opinion; but there is a 
great difference between running to leeward with 
the sea behind the vessel and thrashing to windward 
when it is ahead, and he hesitated. 

“Get the pump started! We’re going on!” Vane 
said impatiently. 

Fortunately the pump was a powerful one, of the 
semi-rotary type, and they had nearly two miles of 
smoother water before they stretched out of the bay 
upon the other tack. When they did so, Carroll, 
glancing down again through the scuttle, could not 


THE FIRST MISADVENTURE 183 

flatter himself that he had reduced the water. It 
was comforting, however, to see that it had not in¬ 
creased, though he did not expect that state of affairs 
to last. When they drove out into broken water, 
he found it difficult to work the crank. The plunges 
threw him against the coaming, and the sea poured 
in over it continually. There are not many men who 
feel equal to determined toil before their morning meal, 
and the physical slackness is generally more pro¬ 
nounced if they have been up most of the preceding 
night; but Carroll recognized that he had no choice. 
There was too much sea for the boat, even if they 
could have launched her, and he could make out no 
spot on the beach where it seemed possible to effect 
a landing if they ran the sloop ashore. As a result 
of this, it behooved him to pump. 

After half an hour of it, he was breathless and 
exhausted, and Vane took his place. The sea was 
higher; the sloop wetter than she had been; and there 
was no doubt that the water was rising fast inside 
of her. Carroll wondered how far ahead the inlet 
lay; and the next two hours were anxious ones to 
both of them. Turn about, they pumped with savage 
determination and went back, gasping, to the helm 
to thrash the boat on. They drove her remorselessly; 
and she swept through the combers, tilted and stream¬ 
ing, while the spray scourged the helmsman’s face 
as he gazed to weather. The men’s arms and 
shoulders ached from working in a cramped position; 
but there was no help for it. They toiled on furi¬ 
ously, until at last the crest of a crag for which they 
were heading sloped away in front of them. 

A few minutes later they drove past the end of it 


i84 vane of the TIMBERLANDS 

into a broad lane of water. The wind was suddenly 
cut off; the combers fell away; and the sloop crept 
slowly up the inlet, which wound, green and placid, 
among the hills, with long ranks of firs dropping 
steeply to the edge of the water. Vane loosed the 
pump handle, and striding to the scuttle looked down 
at the flood which splashed languidly to and fro 
below. 

It strikes me as fortunate that we’re in,” he com¬ 
mented. “ Another half-hour would have seen the 
end of her. Let her come up a little! There’s a 
smooth beach to yonder cove.” 

She slid in quietly, scarcely rippling the smooth 
surface of the tiny basin, and Carroll laid her on the 
beach. 

“ Now,” advised Vane, we’ll drop the boom on 
the shore side to keep her from canting over; and 
then we’ll get breakfast. We’ll see where she’s 
damaged when the tide ebbs.” 

As most of their stores had lain in the flooded 
lockers, from which there had been no time to extri¬ 
cate them, the meal was not an appetizing one. They 
were, however, glad to have it; and rowing ashore 
afterward, they lay on the shingle in the sunshine 
while the sloop was festooned with their drying 
clothes. There was no wind in that deep hollow, 
and they were thankful, for the weather was already 
getting cold. 

‘‘If she has only split a plank or two, we can 
patch her up,” Vane remarked. “ There are all the 
tools we’ll want in the locker.” 

“ Where will you get new planks ? ” Carroll in- 


THE FIRST MISADVENTURE 185 

quired. ‘‘ I don’t think we have any spikes that would 
go through the frames.” 

That is the trouble. I expect I’ll have to make 
a trip across to Comox for them in a sea canoe. 
We’re sure to come across a few Siwash somewhere 
in the neighborhood.” Then he knit his brows. 
“ I can’t say that this expedition is beginning for¬ 
tunately.” 

‘‘ There’s no doubt on that point,” Carroll agreed. 
‘‘Well, the sloop has to be patched up; and until 
I find that spruce I’m going on — anyway, as long 
as the provisions hold out. If we’re not through with 
the business then, we’ll come back again.” 

Carroll made no comment. It was not worth while 
to object, when Vane was obviously determined. 


CHAPTER XVI 


THE BUSH 

I T was a quiet evening, nearly a fortnight after 
the arrival of the sloop. Pale sunshine streamed 
into the cove, and little glittering ripples lapped 
lazily along the shingle. The placid surface of the 
inlet was streaked with faint blue lines where wan¬ 
dering airs came down from the heights above, and 
now and then an elfin sighing fell from the ragged 
summits of the firs. When it died away, the silence 
was broken only by the pounding of a heavy ham¬ 
mer and the crackle of a fire. 

Carroll sat beside the latter, alternately holding a 
stout plank up to the blaze and dabbling its hot 
surface with a dripping mop. His face was scorched, 
and he coughed as the resinous-scented smoke 
drifted about his head and floated in heavy, blue 
wisps half-way up the giant trunks behind him. A big 
sea canoe lay drawn up not far away, and one of its 
copper-skinned Siwash owners lounged on the shingle, 
stolidly watching the white men. His comrade was 
then inside the sloop, holding a big stone against one 
of her frames, while Vane crouched outside, swing¬ 
ing a hammer. Her empty hull flung back the thud 
of the blows, which rang far across the trees. 

Vane was bare-armed and stripped to shirt and 
trousers. He had arrived from Comox across the 
l86 



THE BUSH 


187 

straits at dawn that morning. It was a long trip and 
they had had wild weather on the journey, but he 
had set to work with characteristic energy as soon 
as he landed. Now, though the sun was low, he 
was working harder than ever, with the flood tide, 
which would shortly compel him to desist, creeping 
up to his feet. 

It is a diflicult matter to fit a new plank into the 
rounded bilge of a boat, particularly when one is 
provided with inadequate appliances. One requires 
a good eye for curves, for the planks need much 
shaping. They must also be driven into position by 
force. Two or three stout shores were firmly wedged 
against the side of the boat, an^these encumbered 
Vane in the free use of his arfSS! His face was 
darkly flushed and he panted heavily and now and 
then flung vitriolic instructions to the Siwash inside 
the craft. Carroll, watching him with quiet amuse¬ 
ment, was on the whole content that the tide was 
rising, for his comrade had firmly declined to stop 
for dinner, and he was conscious of a sharpened appe¬ 
tite. It was comforting to reflect that Vane would 
be unable to get the plank into place before the eve¬ 
ning meal, for if there had been any prospect of his 
doing so, he would certainly have postponed his dinner. 

Presently he stopped a moment and turned to 
Carroll. 

“If you were any use in an emergency, you'd be 
holding up for me, instead of that wooden image 
inside! He will back the stone against any frame ex¬ 
cept the one I’m nailing.” 

“The difficulty is that I can’t be in two places 
at the same time,” Carroll retorted good-naturedly. 


i88 VANE OF THE TIMBERLANDS 


‘‘Shall I leave this plank? You can’t get it in to¬ 
night.” 

“ I’m going to try,” Vane answered grimly. 

He turned around to direct the Siwash and then 
cautiously hammered in one of the wedges a little 
farther. Swinging back the hammer, he struck a 
heavy blow. The result was disastrous, for there 
was a crash and one of the shores shot backward, 
striking him on the knee. He jumped with a savage 
cry, and the next moment there was a sharp snapping, 
and the end of the plank sprang out. Then another 
shore gave way; and when the plank fell clattering at 
his feet. Vane whirled the hammer round his head 
and hurled it violently into the bush. This appeared 
to afford him some satisfaction, and he strode up the 
beach, with the blood dripping from the knuckles of 
one hand. 

“ That’s the blamed Siwash’s fault! ” he muttered. 
“ I couldn’t get him to back up when I put the last 
spike in.” 

“ Hadn’t you better tell him to come out ? ” Carroll 
suggested. 

“No!” thundered Vane. “If he hasn’t sense 
enough to see that he isn’t wanted, he can stay where 
he is all night! Are you going to get supper, or must 
I do that, too ? ” 

Carroll merely smiled and set about preparing the 
meal, which the two Siwash partook of, and after¬ 
ward departed with some paper currency. Then Vane, 
walking down the beach, came back with the plank. 
Lighting his pipe, he pointed to one or two broken 
nails in it. The water was now rippling softly about 


THE BUSH 189 

the sloop, and the splash of canoe paddles came up 
out of the distance in rhythmic cadence. 

‘‘ That’s the cause of the trouble,” he explained. 

It cost me a week’s journey to get the package of 
galvanized spikes — I could have managed to split a 
plank or two out of one of these firs. The storekeeper 
fellow assured me they were specially annealed for 
heading up. If I knew who the manufacturers were. 
I’d have pleasure in telling them what I think of them. 
If they set up to make spikes, they ought to make 
them, and empty every keg that won’t stand the test 
out on to the scrap-heap.” 

Carroll smiled. The course his partner had indi¬ 
cated was the one he would have adopted. He was 
characterized by a somewhat grim idea of efficiency, 
and never spared his labor to attain it, though the 
latter fact now and then had its inconveniences for 
those who cooperated with him, as Carroll had dis¬ 
covered. The latter had no doubt that Vane would 
put the planks in, if he spent a month over the opera¬ 
tion. 

I wouldn’t have had this trouble if you’d been 
handier with tools,” Vane went on. “ I can’t see 
why you never took the trouble to learn how to use 
them.” 

‘‘ My abilities aren’t as varied as yours; and the 
thing strikes me as bad economy,” Carroll replied. 
‘‘ Skill of the kind you mention is worth about three 
dollars a day.” 

‘‘ You were getting two dollars for shoveling in a 
mining ditch when I first met you.” 

“ I was,” Carroll assented good-humoredly. I 


190 VANE OF THE TIMBERLANDS 

believe another month or two of it would have worn 
me out. It’s considerably pleasanter and more profit¬ 
able to act as your understudy; but a fairly proficient 
carpenter might have bungled the matter.” 

Vane looked embarrassed. 

‘‘ Let it pass. I’ve a pernicious habit of expressing 
myself unfortunately. Anyhow, we’ll start again on 
those planks the first thing to-morrow.” 

He stretched out his aching limbs beside the fire, 
and languidly watched the firs grow dimmer and the 
mists creep in ghostly trails down the steep hillside. 
Presently Carroll broke the silence. 

“ Wallace,” he advised, ‘‘ wouldn’t it be wiser if you 
met that fellow Horsfield to some extent?” 

‘‘ No,” Vane answered decidedly. ‘‘ I have no in¬ 
tention of giving way an inch. It would only encour¬ 
age the man to press me on another point, if I did. 
I’m going to have trouble with him, and it seems to 
me that the sooner it comes the better. There’s room 
for only one controlling influence in the Clermont 
Mine.” 

Carroll smoked in silence for a while. His comrade 
had successfully carried out most of the small proj¬ 
ects he had undertaken in the bush, and though 
fortune had, perhaps, favored him, he had every rea¬ 
son to be satisfied with the result of his efforts as a 
prospector. He had afterward held his own in the 
city, mainly by simple unwavering determination. 
Carroll, however, realized that to guard against the 
wiles of a clever man like Horsfield, who was un¬ 
hampered by any scruples, might prove a very differ¬ 
ent thing. 

“ In that case, it might be as well to stay in Van- 


THE BUSH 191 

couver as much as possible and keep your eye on him,” 
he suggested. 

“ The same idea has struck me since we sailed. 
The trouble is that until Fve decided about the pulp 
mill he’ll have to go unwatched — for the same rea¬ 
son that prevented you from holding up for me and 
steaming the plank.” 

“If any unforeseen action of Horsfield’s made it 
necessary, you could let this pulp project drop.” 

“ You ought to understand why that’s impossible. 
Drayton, Kitty and Hartley count on my exertions; 
the matter was put into my hands only on the con¬ 
dition that I did all that I could. They’re poor people 
and I can’t go back on them. If we can’t locate the 
spruce, or it doesn’t seem likely to pay for working 
up, there’s nothing to prevent my abandoning the un¬ 
dertaking; but I’m not at liberty to do so just be¬ 
cause it would be a convenience to myself. Hartley 
got my promise before he told me where to search.” 

Carroll changed the subject. 

“ It might have been better if you had made the 
directors’ qualification higher. You would have been 
more sure of Horsfield then, because he would have 
been less likely to do anything that might depreciate 
the value of his stock.” 

“ I had to get a few good names to make it easier 
for men of standing to join me. They wouldn’t 
have been willing to subscribe for too many shares 
until they saw how the thing would go. Anyhow, so 
long as he’s a director, Horsfield must hold a stipu¬ 
lated amount of stock. He’s actually holding a good 
deal.” 

“ The limit’s rather a low one. Suppose he sold 


192 VANE OF THE TIMBERLANDS 

out down to it; he wouldn’t mind having the value 
of the rest knocked down, if he could make more 
than the difference by some jobbery. Of course, 
we’re only a small concern, and we’ll have to raise 
more capital sooner or later. I’ve an idea that 
Horsfield might find.his opportunity then.” 

‘‘If he does, we must try to be ready for him,” 
Vane replied. “ I sat up most of last night with the 
spritsail sheet in my hand, and I’m going to sleep.” 

He strolled away to the tent they had pitched on the 
edge of the bush, but Carroll sat a while smoking be¬ 
side the fire with a thoughtful face. He was suspicious 
of Horsfield and foresaw trouble; more particularly 
now that his comrade had undertaken a project 
which seemed likely to occupy a good deal of his 
attention. Hitherto, Vane had owed part of his 
success to his faculty of concentrating all his powers 
upon one object. 

They rose at dawn the next morning, and by sunset 
had fitted the new planks. Two days later, they 
sailed northward, and eventually they found the 
rancherie Hartley mentioned. They had expected to 
hire a guide there, but the rickety wooden building 
was empty. Vane decided that its Si wash owners, 
who made long trips in search of fish and furs, had 
left it for a time, and he pushed on again. 

He had now to face an unforeseen difficulty; there 
were a number of openings in that strip of coast, 
and Hartley’s description was of no great service in 
deciding which was the right one. During the next 
day or two, they looked into several bights, and see¬ 
ing no valleys opening out of them, went on again. 
One evening, however, they ran into an inlet with a 


THE BUSH 


193 


forest-shrouded hollow at the head of it. Here 
they moored the sloop close in with a sheltered beach 
and after a night’s rest got ready their packs for the 
march inland. Carroll regretted they had not hired 
the Indians with whom his comrade had crossed the 
straits. 

‘‘We would have traveled a good deal more com¬ 
fortably if you had brought those Si wash along to 
pack for us,” he observed. 

“If you had been with them on the canoe trip, 
you might think differently,” Vane answered with a 
laugh. “ Besides, they’re in the habit of going to 
Comox and might put some enterprising lumber men 
on our trail.” 

“ There’s one thing I’m going to insist on,” Carroll 
declared. “ We’ll leave enough provisions on board 
to last us until we get back to civilization, even if 
we have a head wind. I’ve made one or two journeys 
on short rations.” 

Vane agreed to this, and after rowing ashore and 
hiding the boat among the undergrowth, they pro¬ 
ceeded to strap their packs about them. There is an 
art in this, for the weight must be carried where it 
will be felt and retard one’s movements least. They 
had a light tent without poles — which could- be cut 
when wanted — two blankets, an ax, and one or two 
cooking utensils, besides their provisions. A new¬ 
comer from the cities would probably not have car¬ 
ried his share for half a day, but in that rugged land 
mineral prospector and survey packer are accustomed 
to travel heavily burdened, and the men had fol¬ 
lowed both these vocations. 

In front of them a deep trough opened up in the 


194 VANE OF THE TIMBERLANDS 

hills, but it was filled with giant forest, through which 
no track led, and only those who have traversed the 
dim recesses of the primeval bush can fully under¬ 
stand what this implies. The west winds swept 
through that gateway, reaping as they went, and 
here and there tremendous trees lay strewed athwart 
one another with *their branches spread abroad in im¬ 
penetrable tangles. Some had fallen amid the wreck¬ 
age left by previous gales, which the forest had 
partly made good, and there was scarcely a rod of the 
way that was not obstructed by half-rotted trunks. 
Then there were thick bushes, and an undergrowth 
of willows where the soil was damp, with thorny 
brakes and matted fern in between. In places the 
growth was almost like a wall, and the men, skirting 
the inlet, were glad to scramble forward among the 
rough boulders and ragged driftwood at the water’s 
edge for some minutes at a time, until it was neces¬ 
sary to leave the beach behind. 

After the first few minutes there was no sign of 
the gleaming water. They had entered a region of 
dim green shade, where the moist air was heavy with 
resinous smells. The trunks rose about them in tre¬ 
mendous columns, thorns clutched their garments, 
and twigs and brittle branches snapped beneath their 
feet. The day was cool, but the sweat of tense effort 
dripped from them, and when they stopped for breath 
at the end of an hour. Vane estimated that they had 
gone a mile. 

ril be content if we can keep this up,” he said. 

“It isn’t likely,” Carroll replied with a trace of 
dryness, glancing down at a big rent in his jacket. 

A little farther on, they waded with difficulty 


THE BUSH 


195 

through a large stream, and Carroll stopped and 
glanced round at a deep rift in a crag on one side of 
them. 

“ I don’t know whether that could be considered 
a valley; but we may as well look at it.” 

They scrambled forward, and reaching gravelly 
soil where the trees were thinner. Vane surveyed the 
opening. It was very narrow and appeared to lose 
itself among the rocks. The size of the creek which 
flowed out of it was no guide, for those ranges are 
scored by running water. 

“We won’t waste time over that ravine,” Vane con¬ 
cluded. “ I noticed a wider one farther on. We’ll 
see what it’s like; though Hartley led me to under¬ 
stand that he came down a straight and gently slop¬ 
ing valley. The one we’re in answers the descrip¬ 
tion.” 

It was two hours before they reached the second 
opening, and then Vane, unstrapping his pack, clam¬ 
bered up the steep face of a crag. When he came 
back, his face was thoughtful. He sat down and 
lighted his pipe. 

“ This search seems likely to take us longer than 
I expected,” he said. “ To begin with, there are a 
number of inlets, all of them pretty much alike, along 
this part of the coast, but I needn’t go into the rea¬ 
sons for supposing that this is the one Hartley visited. 
Taking it for granted that we’re right, we’re up 
against another difficulty. So far as I could make 
out from the top of that rock, there’s a regular series 
of ravines running back into the hills.” 

“ Hartley told you he came straight down to tide¬ 
water, didn’t he? ” 


196 VANE OF THE TIMBERLANDS 

“ That’s not much of a guide. The slope of every 
fissure seems to run naturally from the inland water¬ 
shed to this basin. Hartley was sick and it was 
raining all the time, and coming out of any of these 
ravines he’d only have to make a slight turn to reach 
the water. What’s more, he could only tell me that 
he was heading roughly west. Allowing that there 
was no sun visible, that might have meant either 
northwest or southwest, which gives us the choice of 
searching the hollows on either side of the main val¬ 
ley. Now, it strikes me as most probable that he 
came right down the main valley itself; but we have 
to face the question as to whether we should push 
straight on, or search every opening that might be 
called a valley ? ” 

What’s your idea? ” Carroll rejoined. 

That we ought to go into the thing systematically, 
and look at every ravine we come to.” 

Carroll nodded agreement. 

“ I guess you’re right.” 

They strapped their packs about them and strug¬ 
gled on again. Stopping half an hour for dinner, 
they plodded all the afternoon up a long hollow, 
which rose steadily in front of them. It was nar¬ 
row, and in places the bottom of it was so choked 
with fallen trunks that they were forced for the 
sake of a clearer passage to take to the creek, where 
they alternately stumbled among big boulders and 
splashed through shallow pools. The water, which 
was mostly melted snow, was very cold. 

The light was fading down in the deep rift when, 
winding round a spur through a tangle of clinging 
underbrush, they saw the timber thin off ahead. In 


THE BUSH 


197 

a few minutes Vane stopped with an exclamation, 
and Carroll, overtaking him, loosened his pack. 
They stood upon the edge of the timber, but in front 
of them a mass of soil and stones ran up almost ver¬ 
tically to a great outcrop of rock high above. 

‘‘If Hartley had come down that, he’d have re¬ 
membered it,” Vane remarked grimly. 

“ It’s obvious,” Carroll agreed, sitting down with 
a sigh of weariness. “We’ll try the next one to¬ 
morrow ; I don’t move another step to-night.” 

Vane laughed. 

“ I’ve no wish to urge you. There’s hardly a joint 
in my body that doesn’t ache.” He flung down his 
pack and stretched himself with an air of relief. 
“ That’s what comes of civilization and soft living. 
It would be nice to sit still now while somebody 
brought me my supper.” 

As there was nobody to do so, he took up the ax 
and set about hewing chips off a fallen trunk while 
Carroll made a fire. Then he cut the tent poles and 
a few armfuls of twigs for a bed, and in half an 
hour the camp was pitched and a meal prepared. 
Darkness closed down on them while they ate, and 
they afterward lay a while, smoking and saying little, 
beside the sinking fire, while the red light flickered 
upon the massy trunks and fell away again. Then 
they crawled into the tent and wrapped their blankets 
round them. 


CHAPTER XVII 


VANE POSTPONES THE SEARCH 

W HEN Vane rose early the next morning, there 
was frost in the air. The firs glistened with 
delicate silver filigree, and thin spears of ice stretched 
out from behind the boulders in the stream. The 
smoke of the fire thickened the light haze that filled 
the hollow, and when breakfast was ready the men 
ate hastily, eager for the exertion that would put a 
little warmth into them. 

“ We’ve had it a good deal colder on other trips. 
I suppose I’ve been getting luxurious, for I seem to 
resent it now,” observed Vane. ‘‘ There’s no doubt 
that winter’s beginning earlier that I expected up here. 
As soon as you can strike the tent, we’ll get a move 
on.” 

Carroll made no comment. He had a vivid rec¬ 
ollection of one or two of those other journeys, dur¬ 
ing which they had spent arduous days floundering 
through slushy snow and had slept in saturated blan¬ 
kets, and sometimes shelterless in bitter frost. Carroll 
had endured these things without complaint, though 
he had never attained to the cheerfulness his com¬ 
rade usually displayed. He was willing to face hard¬ 
ship, when it promised to lead to a tangible result, 
but he failed to understand the curious satisfaction 
198 


VANE POSTPONES THE SEARCH 199 

Vane assumed to feel in ascertaining exactly how much 
weariness and discomfort he could force his flesh to 
bear. 

Vane, however, was not singular in this respect; 
there are men in the newer lands who, if they do not 
actually seek it, will seldom make an effort to avoid 
the strain of overtaxed muscles and exposure to wild 
and bitter weather. They have imbibed the pristine 
vigor of the wilderness, and conflict with the natural 
forces braces instead of daunting them. One recog¬ 
nizes them by their fixed and steady gaze, their direct 
and deliberate speech, and the proficiency that most 
display with ax and saw and rifle. But the effect of 
this Spartan training is not merely physical; the men 
who leave the bush and the ranges, as a rule, come 
to the forefront in commerce and industry. Endur¬ 
ance, swiftness of action and stubborn tenacity are 
apt to carry their possessor far anywhere. 

Vane and his comrade needed these qualities dur¬ 
ing the following week. The vajley grew more wild 
and rugged as they proceeded. In places, its bottom 
was filled with muskegs, cumbered with half-sub¬ 
merged, decaying trunks of fallen trees; and when 
they could not spring from one crumbling log to 
another they sank in slime and water to the knee. 
Then there were affluents of the main river to be 
waded through, and every now and then they were 
forced back by impenetrable thickets to the hillside, 
where they scrambled along a talus of frost-shattered 
rock. They entered transverse valleys, and after 
hours of exhausting labor abandoned the search of 
each in turn and plodded back to the one they had 


200 VANE OF THE TIMBERLANDS 


been following. Their boots and clothing suffered; 
their packs were rent upon their backs; and their 
provisions diminished rapidly. 

At length, one lowering afternoon, they were brought 
to a standstill by the river which forked into two 
branches, one of which came foaming out of a cleft in 
the rocks. This would have mattered less, had it 
flowed across the level; but just there it had scored it¬ 
self out a deep hollow, from which the roar of its tur¬ 
moil rose in long reverberations. Carroll, aching all 
over, stood upon the brink and gazed ahead. He sur¬ 
mised from the steady ascent and the contours of the 
hills that the valley was dying out and that they should 
reach the head of it in another day’s journey. The 
higher summits, however, were veiled in leaden mist, 
and there was a sting in the cold breeze that blew 
down the hollow and set the ragged firs to wailing. 
Then Carroll glanced dubiously at the dim, green 
water which swirled in deep eddies and boiled in white 
confusion among the fangs of rock sixty or seventy 
feet below. Not far away, the stream was wider and, 
he supposed, in consequence, shallower, though it ran 
furiously. 

“ It doesn’t look encouraging, and we have no more 
food left than will take us back to the sloop if we’re 
economical. Do you think it’s worth while going 
on? ” 

I haven’t a doubt about it,” Vane declared. ‘‘ We 
ought to reach the head of the valley and get back 
here in two or three days.” 

Carroll fancied they could have walked the dis¬ 
tance in a few hours on a graded road; but the rough¬ 
ness of the ground was not the chief difficulty. 


VANE POSTPONES THE SEARCH 201 


” Three days will make a big hole in the provisions,” 
he pointed out. 

“ Then we’ll have to put up with short rations.” 

Carroll nodded in rueful acquiescence. 

‘‘If you’re determined, we may as well get on.” 

He stepped cautiously over the edge of the descent, 
and went down a few yards with a run, while loosened 
soil and stones slipped away under him. Then he 
clutched a slender tree, and proceeded as far as the 
next on his hands and knees. After that it was nec¬ 
essary to swing himself over a ledge, and he alighted 
safely on one below, from which he could scramble 
down to the narrow strip of gravel between rock and 
water. He was standing, breathless, looking at the 
latter, when Vane joined him. The stones dipped 
sharply, and two or three large boulders, ringed about 
with froth, rose near the middle of the stream, which 
seemed to be running slacker on the other side of 
them. 

There was nothing to show how deep it was, and 
Carroll did not relish the idea of being compelled to 
swim burdened with his pack. No trees grew im¬ 
mediately upon the brink of the chasm, and to chop 
a good-sized log and get it down to the water, in 
order to ferry themselves across on it, would cost 
more time than Vane was likely to spare for the pur¬ 
pose. Seeing no other way out of it, Carroll braced 
himself for an effort and sturdily plunged in. 

Two steps took him up to the waist, and he had 
trouble in finding solid bottom at the next, for the 
gravel rolled and slipped away beneath his feet in 
the strong stream. The current dragged hard at his 
limbs, and he set his lips tight when it crept up to his 


202 VANE OF THE TIMBERLANDS 


ribs. Then he lost his footing, and was washed 
away, plunging and floundering, with now and then 
one toe resting momentarily upon the bottom. Sweep¬ 
ing rapidly down the stream he was hurled against 
the first of the boulders with a crash that almost drove 
the little remaining breath out of his body. He clung 
to it desperately, gasping hard; then, with a deter¬ 
mined struggle, he contrived to reach the second stone, 
but the stream pressed him violently against this and 
he was unable to find any support for his feet. A 
moment later Vane was washed down toward him and, 
grabbing at the boulder, held on by it. They said 
nothing to each other, but they looked at the sliding 
water between them and the opposite bank. Carroll 
was getting dangerously cold, and he felt the power 
ebbing out of him. He realized that if he must swim 
across he would better do it at once. 

Launching himself forward, he felt the flood lap 
his breast, but as his arms went in he struck something 
with his knee and found that he could stand on a 
submerged ledge. This carried him a yard or two, 
but the next moment he had stepped suddenly over 
the end of the ledge into deeper water. Floundering 
forward, he staggered up a strip of shelving shingle 
and lay there, breathless, waiting for Vane; then to¬ 
gether they scrambled up the slope ahead. The work 
warmed them slightly, and they needed it; but as they 
strode on again, keeping to the foot of the hillside, 
where the timber was less dense, a cold rain drove 
into their faces. It grew steadily thicker; the straps 
began to gall their wet shoulders, and their saturated 
clothing clung heavily about their limbs. In spite of 
this, they struggled on until nightfall, when with dif- 


VANE POSTPONES THE SEARCH 203 

ficulty they made a fire and, after a reduced supper, 
found a little humid warmth in their wet blankets. 

The next day’s work was much the same, only 
that they crossed no rivers. It rained harder, how¬ 
ever, and when evening came Carroll, who had burst 
one boot, was limping badly. They made camp 
among the dripping firs which partly sheltered them 
from the bitter wind, and shortly after their meager 
supper Carroll fell asleep. Vane, to his annoyance, 
found that he could not follow his friend’s example. 
He was overstrung, and the knowledge that the mor¬ 
row would show whether the spruce he sought grew 
in that valley made him restless. The flap of the tent 
was flung back and resting on one elbow he looked 
out upon shadowy ranks of trunks, which rose out 
of the gloom and vanished again as the firelight grew 
and sank. He could smell the acrid smoke and could 
hear the splash of heavy drops upon the saturated 
soil, while the hoarse roar of the river came up in 
fitful cadence from the depths of the valley. 

In place of being deadened by fatigue, his imagina¬ 
tion seemed quickened and set free. It carried him 
back to the lonely heights and the rugged dales of 
his own land, and once more in vivid memory he 
roamed the upland heath with Evelyn. She had at¬ 
tracted him strongly when he was in her visible pres¬ 
ence; but now he thought he understood her better 
than he had ever done then. He had, he felt, not 
grasped the inner meaning of much that she said. 
Words might convey but little in their literal sense 
and yet give to a sympathetic listener an insight into 
the depths of the speaker’s nature, or hint at a thought 
too finely spun and delicate for formal expression. 


204 VANE OF THE TIMBERLANDS 

The same thing applied to her physical personality. 
Contours, coloring, features, were things that could 
be defined and appraised; but there was besides, in 
Evelyn’s case, an aura that only now and then could 
dimly be perceived by senses attuned to it. It en¬ 
veloped her in a mystic light. Again he remembered 
how he had sought her with crude longing and cold 
appreciation. He had failed to comprehend her; the 
one creditable thing he had done was the renouncing 
of his claim. Then the half-formed idea grew plainer 
that she would understand and sympathize with what 
he was doing now. It was to keep faith with those 
who trusted him that he meant stubbornly to prose¬ 
cute his search and, if the present journey failed, to 
come back again. That Evelyn would ever hear of his 
undertaking, appeared most improbable; but this did 
not matter. He knew now that it was the remem¬ 
brance of her that had largely animated him to make 
the venture; and to go on in the face of all opposing 
difficulties was something he could do in her honor. 
Then by degrees his eyes grew heavy, and when he 
sank down in his wet blankets sleep came to him. 
Perhaps he had been fanciful — he was undoubtedly 
overstrung — but, through such dreams as he in¬ 
dulged in, passing glimpses of strange and splendid 
visions that transfigure the toil and clamor of a ma¬ 
terial world are now and then granted to wayfaring 
men. 

At noon the next day they reached the head of 
the valley. It was still raining, and heavy mists ob¬ 
scured the summits of the hills, but above the lower 
slopes of rock glimmering snow ran up into the 


VANE POSTPONES THE SEARCH 205 

woolly vapor. There were firs, a few balsams and 
hemlocks, but no sign of a spruce. 

“ Now,’’ Carroll commented dryly, perhaps you’ll 
be satisfied.” 

Vane smiled. He was no nearer to owning him¬ 
self defeated than he had been when they first set 
out. 

‘‘ We know there’s no spruce in this valley — and 
that’s something,” he replied. “ When we come back 
again we’ll try the next one.” 

‘‘ It has cost us a good deal to make sure of the 
fact.” 

Vane’s expression changed. 

“We haven’t ascertained the cost just yet. As a 
rule, you don’t make up the bill until you’re through 
with the undertaking; and it may be a longer one 
than either of us think. Well, we might as well turn 
upon our tracks.” 

Carroll recalled this speech afterward. Just then, 
however, he hitched his burden a little higher on his 
aching shoulders as he plodded after his comrade 
down the rain-swept hollow. They had good cause 
to remember the march to the inlet. It rained most 
of the while and their clothes were never dry; parts 
of them, indeed, flowed in tatters about their aching 
limbs, and before they had covered half the distance, 
their boots were dropping to pieces. What was more 
important, their provisions were rapidly running out, 
and they marched on a few handfuls of food, care¬ 
fully apportioned, twice daily. At last they lay down 
hungry, with empty bags, one night, to sleep shelter¬ 
less in the rain, for they had thrown, their tent away. 


2o6 vane of the timberlands 


Carroll had some difficulty in getting on his feet the 
next morning. 

“ I believe I can hold out until sundown, though 
Fm far from sure of it,” he said. “ You’ll have to 
leave me behind if we don’t strike the inlet then.” 

‘‘ We’ll strike it in the afternoon,” Vane assured 
him. 

They reslung their packs and set out wearily. 
Carroll, limping and stumbling along, was soon 
troubled by a distressful stitch in his side. He man¬ 
aged to keep pace with Vane, however, and some 
time after noon a twinkling gleam among the trees 
caught their eye. Then the shuffling pace grew 
faster, and they were breathless when at last they 
stopped and dropped their burdens beside the boat. 
It was only at the third or fourth attempt that they 
got her down to the water, and the veins were swollen 
high on Vane’s flushed forehead when he sat down, 
panting heavily, on her gunwale. 

‘‘ We ran her up quite easily, though we had the 
slope to face then,” he remarked. 

‘^You could scarcely expect to carry boats about 
without trouble after a march like the one we’ve 
made! ” 

They ran her in and pulled off to the sloop. When 
at last they sat down in the little saloon. Vane got a 
glimpse of himself in the mirror. 

“ I knew you looked a deadbeat,” he laughed, ‘‘ but 
I’d no idea I was quite so bad. Anyhow, we’ll get 
the stove lighted and some dry things on. The next 
question is — what shall we have for supper ? ” 

That’s easy. Everything that’s most tempting, 
and the whole of it.” 


VANE POSTPONES THE SEARCH 207 

Shortly afterward they flung their boots and rent 
garments overboard and sat down to a feast. The 
plates were empty when they rose, and in another 
hour both of them were wrapped in heavy slumber. 


CHAPTER XVIII 


JESSY CONFERS A FAVOR 


HE next morning it was blowing fresh from 



the southeast, which was right ahead, and Vane’s 
face was hard when he and Carroll got the boat on 
deck and set about tying down two reefs in the main¬ 


sail. 


‘‘ Bad luck seems to follow us,” he grumbled. 

Carroll smiled. 

‘‘There’s no doubt of that; but I suppose the fact 
won’t have much effect on you.” 

“ No,” returned Vane decidedly. “ We had our 
troubles in other ventures, and somehow we got over 
them — I don’t see why we shouldn’t do the same 
again. Now that we’ve seen the country, we ought to 
get some useful information out of Hartley — we’ll 
know what to ask him.” 

“ I shouldn’t count too much on his help,” Carroll 
answered with a thoughtful air. 

They got sail upon the sloop and drove her out into 
a confused head sea, through which she labored with 
flooded decks, making very little to windward. When 
night came, a deluge killed the breeze, and the next 
day she lay rolling wildly in a heavy calm while light 
mist narrowed in the horizon and a persistent drizzle 
poured down upon the smoothly heaving sea. Then 
they had light variable winds, and their provisions 


208 


JESSY CONFERS A FAVOR 


209 


were once more running out when they drew abreast 
of a little coaling port. Carroll suggested running in 
and going on to Victoria by train, but they had hardly 
decided to do so when the fickle breeze died away 
and the tide-stream bore them past to the south. They 
had no longer a stitch of dry clothing and they were 
again upon reduced rations. 

Still bad fortune dogged them, for that night a 
fresh head wind sprang up and held steadily while 
they thrashed her south, swept by stinging spray. 
Their tempers grew shorter under the strain, and their 
bodies ached from the chill of their sodden garments 
and from sitting hour by hour at the helm. At last 
the breeze fell, and shortly afterward a trail of 
smoke and a half-seen strip of hull emerged from the 
creeping haze astern of them. 

“ A lumber tug,’’ observed Vane. ** She seems to 
have a raft in tow, and it will probably be for Dray¬ 
ton’s people. If you’ll edge in toward her I’ll send 
him word that we’re on the way.” 

There was very little wind just then and presently 
the tug was close alongside, pitching her bows out 
of the slow swell, while a great mass of timber won¬ 
derfully chained together surged along astern, the 
dim, slate-green sea washing over it. A shapeless oil¬ 
skinned figure stood outside her pilot-house, balancing 
itself against the heave of the bridge, which slanted 
and straightened. 

“ Winstanley ? ” Vane shouted. 

The figure waved an arm, as if in assent, and Vane 
raised his voice again. 

“ Report us to Mr. Drayton. We’ll come along as 
fast as we can.” 


210 VANE OF THE TIMBERLANDS 


The man turned and pointed to the misty horizon 
astern. 

“ You’ll get it from the north before to-morrow! ’’ 
he called. 

Then the straining tug and the long wet line of 
working raft drew ahead while the sloop crawled on, 
close-hauled toward the south. Late that night, how¬ 
ever, the mist melted away, and a keen rushing breeze 
that came out of the north crisped the water. The 
vessel sprang forward when the ripples reached her; 
the flapping canvas went to sleep; and while each 
slack rope tightened a musical tinkle broke out at the 
bows. It grew steadily louder, and when the sun 
swung up red above the eastern hills, she had piled 
the white froth to her channels and was driving for¬ 
ward merrily with little sparkling seas tumbling, foam- 
tipped, after her. The wind fell light as the sun rose 
higher, but the swinging sloop ran on all day, with 
blurred hills and forests sliding past; and the western 
sky was still blazing with a wondrous green when she 
stole into Vancouver harbor. 

Carroll gazed at the city with open appreciation. 
It rose, girded with many wires and giant telegraph 
poles, roof above roof, up a low rise, on the crest of 
which towering pines still lifted their ragged spires 
against the evening sky. Lower down, big white 
lights were beginning to blink, and the forests up the 
inlet beyond the smoke of the mills had already faded 
to a belt of shadow. 

Quebec,” he remarked, looks fine from the river, 
clustering round and perched upon its heights; and 
Montreal at the foot of its mountain strikes your eye 
from most points of view; but I can’t remember ever 


JESSY CONFERS A FAVOR 


2II 


entering either with the pleasure I’ve experienced in 
reaching this city.” 

“ You probably arrived at the others traveling in 
a Pullman or in a luxurious side-wheel steamboat. 
It wouldn’t be any great change from them to a 
smart hotel.” 

‘‘ That may explain the thing,” Carroll agreed with 
an air of humorous reflection. ‘‘ I guess the way you 
regard a city depends largely on the condition you’re 
in when you reach it and on what you expect to get 
out of it. In the present case, Vancouver stands for 
rest and comfort and enough to eat.” 

Vane laughed. 

I’m as glad to be back as you are; but you’d better 
make the most of any leisure that you can get. As 
soon as I’ve arranged things here we’ll go north again.” 

The light faded as they crept across the inlet before 
a faint breeze, but when they got the anchor over 
and the boat into the water, Carroll made out two 
dim flgures standing on the wharf. 

‘‘ It’s Drayton, I think,” he said, waving a hand to 
them. ‘‘ Kitty’s with him.” 

They pulled ashore, and Drayton and Kitty greeted 
them. 

I’ve been looking out for you since noon,” Dray¬ 
ton told them. “ What about the spruce ? ” 

There was eagerness in his voice, and Vane’s face 
clouded. 

“ We couldn’t find a trace of it.” 

Drayton’s disappointment was obvious, though he 
tried to hide it. 

“ Well,” he said resignedly, ‘‘ I’ve no doubt you 
did all you could.” 


212 VANE OF THE TIMBERLANDS 


Of course!” Kitty broke in. ‘‘We’re quite sure 
of that I ” 

Vane thanked her with a glance. He felt sorry 
for her and Drayton. They were strongly attached 
to each other, and he had reasons for believing that 
even with the advanced salary the man expected to 
get they would find it needful to study strict economy. 
It was easy to understand that a small share in a 
prosperous enterprise would have made things easier 
for them. 

“ I’m going to make another attempt. I expect 
some of our difficulties will vanish after I’ve had a 
talk with Hartley.” 

“ That’s impossible,” Kitty explained softly. 
“ Hartley died a week ago.” 

Vane started. The prospector had given him very 
little definite information, and it was disconcerting 
to recognize that he must now rely entirely upon his 
own devices. 

“ I’m sorry,” he said. “ How’s Celia? ” 

“ She’s very ill.” There was concern in Kitty’s 
voice. “ Hartley got worse soon after you left, and 
she sat up all night with him, after her work for the 
last few weeks. Now she’s broken down, and she 
seems to worry for fear they will not take her back 
again at the hotel.” 

“ I must go to see her,” declared Vane. “ But won’t 
you and Drayton come with us and have dinner ? ” 

Drayton explained that this was out of the ques« 
tion; Kitty’s employer, who had driven in that after¬ 
noon, was waiting with his team. They left the 
wharf together, and a few minutes later Vane shook 
hands with the girl and her companion. 


JESSY CONFERS A FAVOR 


213 

“ Don’t lose heart,” he said encouragingly. We’re 
far from beaten yet.” 

Some time afterward Vane, rejoicing in the un¬ 
usual luxury of clean, dry clothes, walked across to 
call on Nairn. The house struck him as larger, more 
commodious and better lighted than it had been when 
he left it, although he supposed that was only the re¬ 
sult of his having lived on board the sloop and in 
the bush. He was shown into a room where Jessy 
Horsfield was sitting, and she rose with a slight 
start when he came in; but her manner was reposeful 
and quietly friendly when she held out her hand. 

“ So you have come back! Have you succeeded 
in your search ? ” 

Vane was gratified. It was pleasant to feel that 
she was interested in his undertaking. 

“ No,” he confessed. For the time being. I’m 
afraid I have failed.” 

There was reproach in Jessy’s voice when she an¬ 
swered. 

“ Then you have disappointed me! ” 

It was delicate flattery, as she had conveyed the im¬ 
pression that she had expected him to succeed, which 
implied that she held a high opinion of his abilities. 
Still, she did not mean him to think that he had 
forfeited the latter. 

After all, you must have had a good deal against 
you,” she added consolingly. Won’t you sit down 
and tell me about it? Mr. Nairn, I understand, is 
writing some letters, and he sent for Mrs. Nairn just 
before you came in. I don’t suppose she will be back 
for a few minutes.” 

She indicated a chair beside the open hearth and 


214 VANE OF THE TIMBERLANDS 

Vane sat down opposite her, where a low screen cut 
them off from the rest of the room. A shaded lamp 
above their heads cast down a soft radiance which 
lighted a sparkle in the girl’s hair, and a red, wood 
fire glowed cheerfully in front of them. Vane, still 
stiff and aching from exposure to the cold and rain, 
reveled in the unusual sense of comfort. In addition to 
this, his companion’s pose was singularly graceful, 
and the ease of it and the friendly smile with which 
she regarded him somehow implied that they were 
on excellent terms. 

‘‘ It’s very nice to be here again,” he said languidly. 

Jessy looked up at him. He had, as she recognized, 
spoken as he felt, on impulse, and this was more grati¬ 
fying than an obvious desire to pay her a compliment 
would have been. 

I suppose you didn’t get many comforts in the 
bush,” she suggested. 

No. Comforts of any kind are remarkably 
scarce up yonder. As a matter of fact, I can’t im¬ 
agine a country where the contrasts between the 
luxuries of civilization and — the other thing — are 
sharper. You can step off a first-class car into the 
wilderness, where no amount of money can buy you 
better fare than pork, potatoes and dried apples; and 
if you want to travel you must shoulder your pack 
and walk. But that wasn’t exactly what I meant.” 

Then what did you mean ? ” 

‘‘ I don’t know that it’s worth explaining. We 
have rather luxurious quarters at the hotel, but this 
room is somehow different. It’s restful — I think 
it’s homely — in fact, as I said, it’s nice to be here.” 

Jessy made no comment. She understood that he 


JESSY CONFERS A FAVOR 


215 


had been attempting to analyze his feelings, and had 
failed clearly to recognize that her presence contributed 
to the satisfaction of which he was conscious. She 
had no doubt that if he were a man of average sus¬ 
ceptibility, which seemed to be the case, the company 
of a well-dressed and attractive woman would have 
some effect on him after his sojourn in the wilds; 
but whether she had produced any deeper effect than 
that or not she could not determine. Though she was 
curious upon the point, it did not appear judicious to 
prompt him unduly. 

“ But won’t you tell me your adventures ? ” she 
begged. 

It required a few leading questions to start him, 
but at length he told the story in a manner that com¬ 
pelled her interest. 

“ You see,” he concluded, it was the lack of defi¬ 
nite knowledge as much as the natural obstacles that 
brought us back — and I’ve been troubled about the 
thing since we landed.” 

Jessy’s manner invited his confidence. 

I wonder,” she said softly, “ if you would care 
to tell me why? ” 

Vane knit his brows. 

‘‘ Hartley’s dead, and I understand that his daughter 
has broken down after nursing him. It’s doubtful 
whether her situation can be kept open, and it may 
be some time before she’s strong enough to look for 
another.” He hesitated. ‘‘ In a way, I feel responsi¬ 
ble for her.” 

You really aren’t responsible in the least,” Jessy 
declared. “ Still, I can understand the idea’s troub¬ 
ling you.” 


2i6 vane of the timberlands 


She’s left without a cent and unable to work — 
and I don’t know what to do. In an affair of this 
kind I’m handicapped by being a man.” 

“ Would you like me to help you? ” 

I can hardly ask it, but it would be a relief to 
me,” Vane answered with obvious eagerness. 

“ Then if you’ll tell me her address, I’ll go to see her, 
and we’ll consider what can be done.” 

Vane leaned forward impulsively. 

You have taken a weight off my mind. It’s dif¬ 
ficult to thank you properly.” 

Oh, I don’t suppose it will give me any trouble. 
Of course, it must be embarrassing to you to feel that 
you have a helpless young woman on your hands.” 

Then a thought flashed into her mind, as she re¬ 
membered what she had seen at the station some 
months ago. 

“ I wonder whether the situation is an altogether 
unusual one to you ? ” she queried. Have you 
never let your pity run away with your judgment 
before? ” 

“ You wouldn’t expect me to proclaim my char¬ 
ities,” Vane parried with a laugh. 

I think you are trying to put me off. You 
haven’t given me an answer.” 

Well, perhaps I was able to make things easier 
for somebody else not very long ago,” Vane con¬ 
fessed reluctantly but without embarrassment. I 
now see that I might have done harm without meaning 
to do so. It’s sometimes extraordinarily difficult to 
help people — and that makes me especially grateful 
for your offer.” 

For the next few moments Jessy sat silent. It was 


JESSY CONFERS A FAVOR 217 

clear that she had misjudged him, for although she 
was not one who demanded too much from human 
nature, the fact that Kitty Blake had arrived in Van¬ 
couver in his company had undoubtedly rankled in 
her mind. Now she acquitted him of any blame, and 
it was a relief to do so. She changed the subject 
abruptly. 

“ I suppose you will make another attempt to find 
the timber? ’’ 

“ Yes. In a week or two.’’ 

He had hardly spoken when Mrs. Nairn came in 
and welcomed him with her usual friendliness. 

I’m glad to see ye, though ye’re looking thin,” 
she said. ‘‘ What’s the way ye did not come straight 
to us, instead of going to the hotel. Ye would have 
got as good a supper as they would give ye there.” 

I haven’t a doubt of it,” Vane declared. “ On the 
other hand, I hardly think that even one of your 
suppers would quite have put right the defect in my 
appearance you mentioned. You see, the cause of it 
has been at work for some time.” 

Mrs. Nairn regarded him with half-amused com¬ 
passion. 

“If ye’ll come over every evening, we’ll soon cure 
that. I would have been down sooner if Alic had 
not kept me. He’s writing letters, and there was a 
matter or two he wanted to ask my opinion on.” 

“ I think that was very wise of him,” Vane com¬ 
mented. 

His hostess smiled. 

“ For one thing, we had a letter from Evelyn Chis¬ 
holm this afternoon. She’ll be out to spend some 
time with us in about a month.” 


2i8 vane of the timberlands 


‘‘Evelyn’s coming here?” Vane exclaimed, with a 
sudden stirring of his heart. 

“ Why should she no ? I told ye some time ago 
that we partly expected her. Ye were no astonished 
then.” 

She appeared to expect an explanation of the change 
in his attitude, and as he volunteered none she drew 
him a few paces aside. 

“If I’m no betraying a confidence, Evelyn writes 
— I’m no sure of the exact words — that she’ll be 
glad to get away a while. Now, I’ve been wondering 
why she should be anxious to leave home ? ” 

She looked at him fixedly, and, to his annoyance, 
he felt his face grow hot. Mrs. Nairn had quick per¬ 
ceptions, and now and then she was painfully direct. 

“ It struck me that Evelyn was not very comfortable 
there,” he replied. “ She seemed out of harmony 
with her people — she didn’t belong. The same 
thing,” he went on lamely, “ applies to Mopsy.” 

Mrs. Nairn glanced at him with a twinkle in her 
eyes. 

“ It’s no unlikely. The reason may serve — for 
the want of a better.” Then she changed her tone. 
“ Ye’ll away up to Alic; he told me to send ye.” 

Vane went out of the room, but he left Jessy in a 
thoughtful mood. She had seen his start at the men¬ 
tion of Evelyn, and it struck her as significant, for 
she had heard that he had spent some time with the 
Chisholms. On the other hand, there was the obvious 
fact that he had been astonished to hear that Evelyn 
was coming out, which implied that their acquaintance 
had not progressed far enough to warrant the girl’s 
informing him. Besides, Evelyn would not arrive 


JESSY CONFERS A FAVOR 


219 


for a month; and Jessy reflected that she would prob¬ 
ably see a good deal of Vane in the meanwhile. She 
now felt glad that she had promised to look after 
Celia Hartley, for that, no doubt, would necessitate 
her consulting with him every now and then. She 
endeavored to dismiss the matter from her mind, how¬ 
ever, and exerted herself to interest Mrs. Nairn in a 
description of a function, she had lately attended. 


CHAPTER XIX 


VANE FORESEES TROUBLE 

N airn was sitting at a writing-table when Vane 
entered his room, and after a few questions 
about his journey he handed the younger man one of 
the papers that lay in front of him. 

“ It’s a report from the mine. Ye can read and 
think it over while I finish this letter.” 

Vane carefully studied the document, and then 
waited until Nairn laid down his pen. 

“ It only brings us back to our last conversation on 
the subject,” he said when his host glanced at him 
inquiringly. ‘‘We have the choice of going on as 
we are doing, or extending our operations by an in¬ 
crease of capital. In the latter case, our total earn¬ 
ings might be larger, but I hardly believe there would 
be as good a return on the money actually sunk. Tak¬ 
ing it all round, I don’t know what to think. Of 
course, if it appeared that there was a moral certainty 
of making a satisfactory profit on the new stock, I 
should consent.” 

Nairn chuckled. 

“ A moral certainty is no a very common thing in 
mining.” 

“ Horsfield’s in favor of the scheme. How far 
would you trust that man ? ” 

“ About as far as I could fling a bull by the tail. 
The same thing applies to both of them.” 

220 


VANE FORESEES TROUBLE 221 


He has some influence. No doubt he’d find 
supporters.” 

Nairn saw that the meaning of his last remark, 
which implied that he had no more confidence in Jessy 
than he had in her brother, had not been grasped by 
his companion, but he did not consider it judicious to 
make it plainer. Instead, he gave Vane another 
piece of information. 

“ He and Winter work into each other’s hands.” 

“ But Winter has no interest in the Clermont! ” 

Nairn smiled sourly. 

He holds no shares in the mine; but there’s no 
much in the shape of mineral developments yon man 
has no an interest in. Since ye do no seem inclined 
to yield Horsfield a point or two, it might pay ye to 
watch the pair of them.” 

Vane was aware that Winter was a person of some 
importance in financial circles, and he sat thoughtfully 
silent for a couple of minutes. 

‘‘ Now,” he explained at length, every dollar we 
have in the Clermont is usefully employed and earn¬ 
ing a satisfactory profit. Of course, if we put the 
concern on the market, we might get more than it is 
worth from investors; but that doesn’t greatly appeal 
to me.” 

“ It’s unnecessary to point out that a director’s in¬ 
terest is no invariably the same as that of his share¬ 
holders,” Nairn rejoined. 

It’s an unfortunate fact. Yet I’d be no better 
off if I got only the same actual return on a larger 
amount of what would be watered stock.” 

‘‘ There’s sense in that. I’m no urging the scheme 
— there are other points against it.” 


222 VANE OF THE TIMBERLANDS 


Well, ril go up and look round the mine, and 
then we’ll have another talk about the matter.” 

Vane walked back to his hotel in a thoughtful frame 
of mind. Finding Carroll in the smoking-room, he 
related his conversation with Nairn. 

‘‘ I’m a little troubled about the situation,” he con¬ 
fessed. The Clermont finances are now on a sound 
basis, but it might after all prove advantageous to 
raise further capital; although in such a case we would, 
perhaps, lie open to attack. Nairn’s inclined to be 
cryptic in his remarks; but he seems to hint that it 
would be advisable to make Horsfield some concession 
— in other words, to buy him off.” 

“ Which is a course you have objections to? ” 

Very decided ones.” 

“ In a general way, Nairn’s advice strikes me as 
quite sensible. Wherever mining and other schemes 
are floated, there are men who make a good living 
out of the operations. They’re trained to the busi¬ 
ness; they’ve control of the money; and when a new 
thing’s put on the market, they consider they’ve the 
first claim on the pickings. As a rule, that notion 
seems to be justified.” 

“ You needn’t elaborate the point,” Vane broke in 
impatiently. 

‘‘ You made your appearance in this city as a poor 
and unknown man with a mine to sell,” Carroll went 
on. ‘‘ Disregarding tactful hints, you laid down your 
terms and stuck to them. Launching your venture 
without considering their views, you did the gentle¬ 
men I’ve mentioned out of their accustomed toll, and 
I’ve no doubt that some of them were indignant. It’s 
a thing you couldn’t expect them to sanction. Now, 


VANE FORESEES TROUBLE 


223 


however, one who probably has others behind him is 
making overtures to you. You ought to consider it a 
compliment; a recognition of ability. The question 
is — do you mean to slight these advances and go 
on as you have begun ? ” 

“ That’s my present intention,” Vane answered. 

Then you needn’t be astonished if you find your¬ 
self up against a determined opposition.” 

“ I think my friends will stand by me.” 

Vane looked at him steadily, and Carroll laughed. 

“ Thanks. I’ve merely been pointing out what you 
may expect, and hinting at the most judicious course 
— though the latter’s rather against my natural in¬ 
clinations. I’d better add that I’ve never been par¬ 
ticularly prudent, and the opposite policy appeals to 
me. If we’re forced to clear for action, we’ll nail 
the flag to the mast.” 

It was spoken lightly, because the man was serious, 
but Vane knew that he had an ally who would sup¬ 
port him with unflinching staunchness. 

‘‘ I’m far from sure that it will be needful,” he re¬ 
plied. 

They talked about other matters until they strolled 
off to their fooms. The next week Vane was kept 
occupied in the city; and then once more they sailed 
for the North. They pushed inland until they were 
stopped by snow among the ranges, without finding 
the spruce. The journey proved as toilsome as the 
previous one, and both men were worn out when they 
reached the coast. Vane was determined on making 
a third attempt, but he decided to visit the mine be¬ 
fore proceeding to Vancouver. They had heavy rain 
during the voyage down the straits, and when, on 


224 VANE OF THE TIMBERLANDS 

the day after reaching port, the jaded horses they 
had hired plodded up the sloppy trail to the mine a 
pitiless deluge poured down on them. The light was 
growing dim among the dripping firs, and a deep- 
toned roar came throbbing across their shadowy ranks. 
Vane turned and glanced back at Carroll. 

Tve never heard the river so plainly before,” he 
said. “ It must be unusually swollen.” 

The mine was situated on a narrow level flat be¬ 
tween the hillside and the river, and Carroll under¬ 
stood the anxiety in his comrade’s voice. Urging the 
wearied horses they pressed on a little faster. It was 
almost dark, however, when they reached the edge of 
an opening in the firs and saw a cluster of iron-roofed, 
wooden buildings and a tall chimney-stack, in front 
of which the unsightly ore-dump extended. Wet, 
chilled and worn out as the men were, there was com¬ 
fort in the sight; but Vane frowned as he noticed that 
a shallow lake stretched between him and the build¬ 
ings. On one side of it there was a broad strip of 
tumbling foam, which rose and fell in confused up¬ 
heavals and filled the forest with the roar it made. 
Vane drove his horse into the water; and dismounting 
among the stumps before the ore-dump, he found a 
wet and soil-stained man awaiting him. A long trail 
of smoke floated away from the iron stack behind him, 
and through the sound of the river there broke the 
clank and thud of hard-driven pumps. 

‘‘ You have got a big head of steam up, Salter,” he 
remarked. 

The man nodded. 

“We want it. It’s a taking me all my time to 
keep the water out of the workings; and the boys are 


VANE FORESEES TROUBLE 225 

over their ankles in the new drift. Leave your 
horses — Fll send along for them — and I’ll show 
you what we’ve been doing, after supper.” 

“ I’d rather go now, while I’m wet,” Vane an¬ 
swered. ‘‘ We came straight on as soon as we landed, 
and I probably shouldn’t feel like turning out again 
when I’d had a meal.” 

Salter made a sign of assent, and a few minutes 
later they went down into the mine. The approach 
to it looked like a canal, and they descended the shal¬ 
low shaft amid a thin cascade. The tunnel slanted, 
for the lode dipped, and the pale lights that twinkled 
here and there among the timbering showed shadowy, 
half-naked figures toiling in water which rose well up 
their boots. Further streams of it ran in from fis¬ 
sures; and Vane’s face grew grave as he plodded 
through the flood with a lamp in his hand. He spent 
an hour in the workings, asking Salter a question now 
and then, and afterward went back with him to one 
of the iron-roofed sheds, where he put on dry clothes 
and sat down to a meal. 

When it was over and the table had been cleared, 
he lay in a canvas chair beside the stove, listening to 
the resinous billets snapping and crackling cheerfully. 
The little, brightly lighted room was pleasantly warm, 
and Vane was filled with a languid sense of physical 
comfort after long exposure to rain and bitter wind. 
The deluge roared upon the iron roof; the song of 
the river rose and fell, filling the place with sound; 
and now and then the pounding and clanking of the 
pumps broke in. 

Vane examined the sheet of figures Salter handed 
him, and lighted a fresh cigar when he had laid it 


226 VANE OF THE TIMBERLANDS 


down. Then he carefully turned over some of the 
pieces of stone which partly covered the table. 

‘‘ There’s no doubt that those specimens aren’t quite 
so promising,” he said at length; ‘‘and the cost of 
extraction is going up. I’ll have a talk with Nairn 
when I get back; but in the meanwhile it looks as if we 
were going to have trouble with the water.” 

“ It’s a thing I’ve been afraid of for some time,” 
Salter answered. “We can keep down any leakage 
that comes in through the rock, though it means driv¬ 
ing the pumps hard, but an inrush from the river would 
beat us. A rise of a foot or so would turn the flood 
into the workings.” He paused and added signifi¬ 
cantly : “ Drowning out a mine’s a costly matter. 
My idea is that you ought to double our pumping 
power and cut down the rock in the river-bed near 
the rapid. That would take off three or four feet 
of water.” 

“ It would mean a mighty big wages bill.” 

Salter nodded gravely. 

“To do the thing properly would cost a pile of 
money; but it’s an outlay that you’ll surely have to 
face.” 

Vane let the matter drop, and an hour later retired 
to his wooden berth. The roar of the rain upon the 
vibrating roof was like the roll of a great drum, and 
the sound of the river’s turmoil throbbed through the 
frail wooden shack; but the man had lain down 
at night near many a rapid and thundering fall, 
and in a few minutes he was fast asleep. He 
was awakened by a new shrill note, which he 
recognized as the whistle of the pumping engine. 
It was sounding the alarm. The next moment Vane 


VANE FORESEES TROUBLE 227 

was struggling into his clothing; then the door swung 
open and Salter stood in the entrance, lantern in hand, 
with water trickling from him. There was keen 
anxiety in his expression. 

“ Flood’s lapping the bank top now! ” he gasped. 
“ There’s a jam in the narrow place at the head of 
the rapid and the water’s backing up! I’m going 
along with the boys.” 

He vanished as suddenly as he had appeared and 
Vane savagely jerked on his jacket. If the mine were 
drowned, it would entail a heavy expenditure in 
pumping plant to clear out the water, and even then 
operations might be stopped for a considerable time. 
What was more, it would precipitate a crisis in the 
affairs of the company and necessitate an increase of its 
capital. 

Vane was outside in less than a minute and stood 
still, looking about him, while the deluge lashed his 
face and beat his clothing against his limbs. He 
could make out only a blurred mass of climbing trees 
on one side and a strip of foam cutting through the 
black level, which he supposed was water, in front of 
him. His trained ears, however, gave him a little 
information, for the clamor of the flood was broken 
by a sharp snapping and crashing which he knew was 
made by a mass of driftwood driving furiously against 
the boulders. In that region, the river banks are en¬ 
cumbered here and there with great logs, partly 
burned by forest fires, reaped by gales or brought 
down from the hillsides by falls of frost-loosened 
soil. A flood higher than usual sets them floating, 
and on subsiding sometimes leaves them packed in a 
gorge or stranded in a shallow to wait for the next 


228 VANE OF THE TIMBERLANDS 


big rise. Now they were driving down and, as Salter 
had said, jamming at the head of the rapid. 

Suddenly a column of fierce white radiance leaped 
up, lower down-stream, and Vane knew that a big 
compressed air-lamp had been carried to the spot 
where the driftwood was gathering. Even at a dis¬ 
tance, the brightness of the blaze dazzled him, and he 
could see nothing else when he headed toward it. He 
stumbled against a fir stump, and the next minute the 
splashing about his feet warned him that he was en¬ 
tering the water. Having no wish to walk into the main 
stream, he floundered to one side. Getting nearer 
to the blaze, he soon made out a swarm of shadowy 
figures scurrying about beneath it. Some of them 
had saws or axes, for he caught the gleam of steel. 
He broke into a splashing run; and presently Carroll, 
whom he had forgotten, came up calling to him. 


CHAPTER XX 


THE FLOOD 

W HEN he reached the blast-lamp, which was 
raised on a tall tripod, Vane stood with his 
back to the pulsating gaze while he grasped the de¬ 
tails of a somewhat impressive scene. A little up¬ 
stream of him, the river leaped out of the darkness, 
breaking into foaming waves, and a wall of dripping 
firs flung back the roar it made, the first rows of 
serried trunks standing out hard and sharp in the 
fierce white light. Nearer the spot where he stood, 
a projecting spur of rock narrowed in the river, which 
boiled tumultuously against its foot, while about half¬ 
way across, the top of a giant boulder rose above the 
flood. 

Vane could just see it, because a mass of driftwood, 
which was momentarily growing, stretched from 
bank to bank. A big log, drifting down sidewise, 
had brought up against the boulder and once fixed had 
seized and held fast each succeeding trunk. Some 
had been driven partly out upon those that had pre¬ 
ceded them; some had been drawn beneath and catch¬ 
ing the bottom had jammed; then the rest had been 
wedged by the current into the gathering mass, trunks, 
branches and brushwood all finding a place. When the 
stream is strong, a jam usually extends downward, as 
well as rises, as the water it pens back increases in 
229 


230 VANE OF THE TIMBERLANDS 

depth, until it forms an almost solid barrier from sur¬ 
face to bed. If it occurs during a log-drive the river 
is choked with valuable lumber. 

Bent figures were at work with handspikes and 
axes at the shoreward end of the mass; others had 
crawled out along the logs in search of another point 
where they could advantageously be attacked; but 
Vane, watching them with practised eye, decided that 
they were largely throwing their toil away. Then he 
glanced down-stream; but, powerful as the light was, 
it did not pierce far into the darkness and the rain, 
and the mad white rush of the rapid vanished abruptly 
into the surrounding gloom. He caught the clink of 
a hammer on a drill, and seeing Salter not far away, he 
strode toward him. 

How are you getting to work ? ” he asked. 

Salter pointed to the foot of the rock on which they 
stood. 

“ I reckoned that if we could put a shot in yonder 
we might cut out stone enough to clear the butts of 
the larger logs that are keying up the jam.” 

‘'You’re wasting time — starting at the wrong 
place.” 

“ It’s possible; but what am I to do ? I’d rather 
split that boulder or chop down to the king log there — 
but the boys can’t get across.” 

“Have they tried?” Vane demanded. “I will, if 
it’s necessary.” 

Salter expostulated. 

“ I want to point out that you’re the boss director of 
this company. I don’t know what you’re making out 
of it; but you can hire men to do that kind of work 
for three dollars a day.” 


THE FLOOD 


231 


We’ll let the boys try it, if they’re willing.” 

Vane raised his voice. 

‘‘ Are any of you open to earn twenty dollars? I’ll 
pay that to the man who’ll put a stick of giant-powder 
in yonder boulder, and another twenty to any one who 
can find the king log and chop it through.” 

Three or four of them crept cautiously along the. 
driftwood bridge. It heaved and worked beneath, 
them; the foam sluiced across it and the stream forced 
the thinner tops of shattered trees above the barrier. 
It was obvious that the men were risking life and 
limb, and there was a cry from the others when one 
of them went down and momentarily disappeared. 
He scrambled to his feet again, but those behind him 
stopped, bracing themselves against the stream, nearly 
waist-deep in rushing froth. Most of them had 
followed rough and dangerous occupations in the bush; 
but they were not professional river-Jacks trained to 
high proficiency in log-driving, and one of them, turn¬ 
ing, shouted to the watchers on the bank. 

“ This jam’s not solid! ” he explained above the roar 
of the water. ‘‘ She’s working open and shutting; and 
you can’t tell where the breaks are.” 

He stooped and rubbed his leg, and Vane under¬ 
stood him to add: 

Figured I had it smashed.” 

Vane swung round toward Carroll. 

We’ll give them a lead I ” 

Salter ventured another expostulation: 

Stay where you are I How are you going to man¬ 
age, if the boys can’t tackle the thing? ” 

They haven’t as much at stake as I have,” was 
Vane’s reply. “ I’m a director of the company, as you 


232 VANE OF THE TIMBERLANDS 

pointed out. Give me two sticks of giant-powder, 
some fuse, and detonators! ” 

Salter yielded when he saw that Vane meant to be 
obeyed; and cramming the blasting material into his 
pocket, Vane turned to Carroll. 

Are you coming with me ? ’’ 

Since I can’t stop you, I suppose I’d better go.” 

As they sprang down the bank, Salter addressed one 
of the miners at work near him. 

‘‘ I’ve seen a few company bosses in my time, but 
this one’s different from the rest. I can’t imagine any 
of the others wanting to cross that jam.” 

Vane crawled out on the groaning timber, with Car- 
roll a few feet behind him. The perilous bridge they 
traversed rolled beneath their feet; but they had joined 
the other men before they came to any particularly 
troublesome opening. Then the clustering wet figures 
were brought up by a gap filled with leaping foam, in 
the midst of which brushwood swung to and fro and 
projecting branches ground on one another. Whether 
there was solid timber a foot or two beneath, or only 
the entrance to some cavity by which the stream swept 
through the barrier, there was nothing to show; but 
Vane set his lips and leaped. He alighted on some¬ 
thing that bore him, and when the others followed, 
floundering and splashing, the deliberation which hith¬ 
erto had characterized their movements suddenly de¬ 
serted them. They had reached the limit beyond which 
it was no longer needful. 

There is courage which springs from knowledge, 
often painfully acquired, of the threatened dangers and 
the best means of avoiding them; but it carries its 
possessor only so far. Beyond that point he must face 


THE FLOOD 


233 


the risk he cannot estimate and blindly trust to chance. 
At sea, when canvas is still the propelling power, and 
in the wilderness, man at grips with the elemental 
forces must now and then rise above bodily shrinking 
and disregard the warnings of reason. There are 
tasks which cannot be undertaken in cold blood; and 
when they had crossed the gap. Vane and those behind 
him blundered on in hot Berserker fury. They had 
risen to the demand on them, and the curious psychic 
change had come; now they must achieve success or 
face annihilation. But in this there was nothing un¬ 
usual; it is the alternative offered many a log-driver, 
miner and sailorman. 

Neither Vane nor Carroll, nor any of those who 
assisted them, had a clear recollection of what they 
did. Somehow they reached the boulder; somehow 
they plied ax or iron-hooked peevy, while the unstable, 
foam-lapped platform rocked beneath their feet. 
Every movement entailed a peril no one could calcu¬ 
late; but they toiled savagely on. When Vane began 
to swing a hammer above a drill, or from whom he 
got it, he did not know, any more than he remembered 
when he had torn off and thrown away his jacket al¬ 
though the sticks of giant-powder which had been in 
his pocket lay near him upon the stone. Sparks leaped 
from the drill which Carroll held and fell among the 
coils of snaky fuse; but that did not trouble them; aud¬ 
it was only when Vane was breathless that he changed 
places with his companion. They heard neither the 
turmoil of the flood nor the crashing of the timber, 
and the foam that lapped their long boots whirled un¬ 
heeded by. 

About them, bowed figures that breathed in ster- 


234 VANE OF THE TIMBERLANDS 

torous gasps grappled desperately with the grinding, 
smashing timber. Sometimes they were forced up in 
harsh distinctness by a dazzling glare; sometimes they 
faded into blurred shadows as the pulsating flame 
upon the bank sank a little or was momentarily blown 
aside; but all the while gorged veins rose on bronzed 
foreheads and toil-hardened muscles were taxed to the 
utmost. At last, when a trunk rolled beneath him, 
Carroll missed a stroke and realized with a shock of 
dismay that it was not the drill he had struck with his 
hammer. 

'' I couldn’t help it! ” he gasped. Where did I hit 
you? ” 

Get on! ” Vane cried hoarsely. “ I can hold the 
drill.” 

Carroll struck for a few more minutes, and then 
flung down the hammer and inserted the giant-powder 
into the holes sunk in the stone. He lighted the 
fuse and, warning the others, they hastily recrossed 
the dangerous bridge. They had reached the edge of 
the forest when a flash leaped up amid the foam and a 
sharp crash was followed by a deafening, drawn-out 
uproar. Rending, grinding, smashing, the jam broke 
up. It hammered upon the partly shattered boulder, 
and, carrying it away or driving over it, washed in 
tremendous ruin down the rapid. When the wild 
clamor had subsided, Salter gave the men some in¬ 
structions; and then, as they approached the lamp, he 
noticed Vane’s reddened hand. 

“ That looks a nasty smash; you want to get it seen 
to,” he advised. 

I’ll get it dressed at the settlement; we’ll make an 
early start to-morrow. We were lucky in breaking 


THE FLOOD 


235 


the jam; but you’ll have the same trouble over again 
any time a heavy flood brings down an unusual quan¬ 
tity of driftwood.” 

It’s what I’d expect.” 

‘‘ Then something will have to be done to prevent it. 
I’ll go into the matter when I reach the city.” 

Carroll and Vane walked back to the shack, where 
the latter bound up his comrade’s injured hand. When 
he had done so, Vane managed to light a cigar, and 
lying back, still very wet, he looked thoughtful. 

‘'We can’t risk having the workings drowned; but 
I’m afraid the cost of the remedy will force me into 
sanctioning some scheme for increasing our capital.” 

“ It’s a very common procedure,” Carroll rejoined. 
“ I’ve wondered why you had so strong an objection 
to it. Of course. I’ve heard your business reasons.” 

Vane smiled. 

“ I have some of a different kind — we’ll call them 
sentimental ones — though I don’t think I quite real¬ 
ized it until lately.” 

“ You’re not given to introspection. Go on; I think 
I know what’s coming.” 

“To put the thing into words may help me to for¬ 
mulate my ideas; they’re rather hazy. Well, osten¬ 
sibly, I left England as the result of a difference of 
opinion — which I’ve regretted ever since — though I 
know now that really it was from another cause. I 
wanted room, I wanted freedom; and I got them both 
— freedom either to do work that nearly broke my 
heart and wore the flesh off me or to starve.” 

“ The experience is not an unusual one.” 

“ Eventually,” Vane proceeded, “ I managed to get 
on my feet. I suppose I got rather proud of myself 


236 VANE OF THE TIMBERLANDS 

when I beat the city men over the floating of the mine, 
and I began to think of going back to the sphere of 
life in which I was born — excuse the phrase.” 

‘‘ It looked nice, from a distance,” Carroll suggested. 

“It was tolerable in Vancouver; anyway, while I 
could go straight ahead and interest myself in the de¬ 
velopment of the mine. I began to expect a good deal 
from my English visit.” 

Carroll laughed softly before he helped him out. 

“ And you were bitterly disappointed. It’s a very 
old tale. You had cut loose — and you couldn’t get 
back when you wanted to.” 

“I suppose I’d changed; the bush had got hold of 
me. The ways and views of the people over yonder 
didn’t seem to be those I remembered. They couldn’t 
look at things from my standpoint; I wouldn’t adopt 
theirs. You and I have had to face — realities.” 

“Hunger,” corrected Carroll softly; “wet snow to 
sleep in; bodily exhaustion. They probably teach one 
something, or, at any rate, they alter one’s point of 
view. When you’ve marched for days on half rations, 
some things don’t seem so important — how you put 
on your clothes, for instance, or how your dinner’s 
served. But I don’t see yet what bearing this has on 
your reluctance to extend the Clermont operations.” 

“ I could act as director, with such men as Nairn, 
when it was a question of running a mine; but it’s 
doubtful if I’d make a successful financial juggler. 
It’s hard to keep one’s hands off some of the profes¬ 
sional tricksters. Bluff, assumption, make-believe — 
Pshaw! I’ve had enough of them. Better stick to the 
ax and cross-cut; that’s what I feel to-night.” 

“ Now that you’ve relieved your mind, I’ll show you 


THE FLOOD 


237 


where you were wrong. You said that you had 
changed in the wilderness — you haven’t; your kind 
are fore-loopers born. Your place is with the vedettes, 
ahead of the massed columns. But there’s a point that 
strikes one — is 'your objection to financial scheming 
due to honesty or pride ? ” 

Vane laughed. 

“ I suspect a good deal of it’s bad temper. Any¬ 
how, I’ve felt that rather than truckle with that fellow 
Horsfield I’d like to pitch him down the stairs. But 
all this is pretty random talk.” 

“ It is,” Carroll agreed. ‘‘ You haven’t said whether 
you intend to authorize that extension of capital? ” 

I suppose it will have to be done. And now it’s 
very late and I’m going to sleep.” 

They retired to the wooden bunks Salter had placed 
at their disposal; and early the next morning they left 
the mine. Vane got his hand dressed when they 
reached the little rhining town at the head of the rail¬ 
road, and on the following day they arrived in Van^ 
couver. 


CHAPTER XXI 


VANE YIELDS A POINT 



‘HE short afternoon was drawing toward its close 


when Vane came out of a large building in the 
city. Glancing at his watch, he stopped on the steps. 

“ The meeting went pretty satisfactorily, taking it 
all round,” he remarked to Carroll. 

‘‘ I think so,” agreed his companion. “ But I’m far 
from sure that Horsfield was pleased with the stock¬ 
holders’ decision.” 

Vane smiled in a thoughtful manner. After return¬ 
ing from the mine, he had gone inland to examine a 
new irrigation property in which he had been asked to 
take an interest, and had got back only in time for a 
meeting of the Clermont shareholders, which Nairn 
had arranged in his absence. The meeting, of the kind 
that is sometimes correctly described as extraordinary, 
was just over, and though Vane had been forced to 
yield to a majority on some points, he had secured the 
abandonment of a proposition he considered dangerous. 

“ Though I don’t see what the man could have gained 
by it. I’m inclined to believe that if Nairn and I had 
been absent he’d have carried his total reconstruction 
scheme. That wouldn’t have pleased me.” 

‘‘ I thought it injudicious.” 

‘‘ It was only because we must raise more money 
that I agreed to the issue of the new block of shares,” 


238 


VANE YIELDS A POINT 


239 

Vane went on. We ought to pay a fair dividend on 
the moderate sum in question.” 

'' You think you’ll get it ? ” 

“ I’ve not much doubt.” 

Carroll made no reply to this. Vane was capable 
and forceful; but his abilities were of a practical rather 
than a diplomatic order, and he was occasionally ad¬ 
dicted to somewhat headstrong action. Knowing that 
he had a very cunning antagonist intriguing against 
him, his companion had misgivings. 

Shall we walk back to the hotel? ” he suggested. 

“ No,” answered Vane; ‘‘ I’ll go across and see how 
Celia Hartley’s getting on. I’m afraid I’ve been for¬ 
getting her.” 

Then I’ll come too. You may need me; there are 
matters which you’re not to be trusted to deal with 
alone.” 

Just then Nairn came down the steps and waved his 
hand to them. 

‘‘Ye will no forget that Mrs. Nairn is expecting 
both of ye this evening.” 

He passed on, and they set off together across the 
city toward the district where Celia lived. Though 
the quarter in question may have been improved out of 
existence since, a few years ago rows of low-rented 
shacks stood upon mounds of sweating sawdust which 
had been dumped into a swampy hollow. Leaky, frail 
and fissured, they were not the kind of places anyone 
who could help it would choose to live in; but Vane 
found the sick girl still installed in one of the worst of 
them. She looked pale and haggard; but she was bus¬ 
ily at work upon some millinery; and the light of a 
tin lamp showed Drayton and Kitty Blake sitting near 


240 VANE OF THE TIMBERLANDS 

her. There were cracks in the thin, boarded walls, 
from which a faint resinous odor exuded, but it failed 
to hide the sour smell of the wet sawdust upon which 
the shack was built. The room, which was almost 
bare of furniture, felt damp and unwholesome. 

‘‘You oughtn’t to be at work; you don’t look fit,” 
Vane said to Celia. He paused a moment, hesitating, 
before he added: “ I’m sorry we couldn’t find that 

spruce; but, as I told Drayton, we’re going back to try 
again.” 

The girl smiled bravely. 

“ Then you’ll find it the next time. I’m glad I’m 
able to do a little; it brings in a few dollars.” 

“ But what are you doing? ” 

“ Making hats. I did one for Miss Horsfield, and 
afterward some friends of hers sent me two or three 
more to trim. She said she’d try to get me work from 
one of the big stores.” 

“ But you’re not a milliner, are you? ” asked Vane, 
feeling grateful to Jessy for the practical way in which 
she had kept her promise to assist. 

“ Celia’s something better,” Kitty broke in. “ She’s 
a genius.” 

“Isn’t that a slight on the profession?” Vane 
laughed. 

He was anxious to lead the conversation away from 
Miss Horsfield’s action; he shrank from figuring as the 
benefactor who had prompted her. 

“ I’m not quite sure,” he continued, “ what genius 
really is.” 

“ I don’t altogether agree with the definition of it as 
the capacity for taking infinite pains,” Carroll, guess¬ 
ing his companion’s thoughts, remarked with mock 


VANE YIELDS A POINT 


241 


sententiousness. “ In Miss Hartley’s case, it strikes me 
as the instinctive ability to evolve a finished work of 
art from a few fripperies, without the aid of technical 
training. Give her two or three feathers, a yard of 
ribbon and a handful of mixed sundries, and she’ll 
magically transmute them into — this.” 

He took up a hat from the table and surveyed it with 
an air of critical intelligence. 

“ It was innate genius that set this plume at the 
one artistic angle. Had it been done by less capable 
hands, the thing would have looked like a decorated 
beehive.” 

The others laughed, and he led them on to general 
chatter, under cover of which Vane presently drew 
Drayton to the door. 

The girl looks far from fit,” he said. “ Has the 
doctor been over lately ? ” 

Two or three days ago,” answered Drayton. 
‘‘ We’ve been worried about Celia. It’s out of the 
question that she should go back to the hotel, and she 
can only manage to work a few hours daily. There’s 
another thing — the clerk of the fellow who owns 
these shacks has just been along for his rent. It’s 
overdue.” 

‘‘ Where’s he now ? ” 

Drayton laughed, for the sounds of a vigorous al¬ 
tercation rose from farther up the unlighted street. 

I guess he’s yonder, having some more trouble 
with his collecting.” 

‘‘ ni fix that matter, anyway.” 

Vane disappeared into the darkness, and it was some 
time later when he re-entered the shack. He waited 
until a remark of Celia’s gave him a lead. 


242 VANE OF THE TIMBERLANDS 

You’re really a partner in the lumber scheme,” he 
told her; “ I can’t see why you shouldn’t draw part of 
your share in the proceeds beforehand.” 

“ The first payment isn’t to be made until you find 
the spruce and get your lease,” the girl reminded him. 
“ You’ve already paid a hundred dollars that we had 
no claim on.” 

“ That doesn’t matter; I’m going to find it.” 

“ Yes,” agreed Celia, with a look of confidence, “ I 
think you will. But ”— a flicker of color crept into 
her thin face —‘‘ I can’t take any more money until 
it is found.” 

Vane, failing in another attempt to shake her resolu¬ 
tion, dropped the subject, and soon afterward he and 
Carroll took their departure. They were sitting in 
their hotel, waiting for dinner, when Carroll looked 
up lazily from his luxurious chair. 

'‘What are you thinking about so hard?” he in¬ 
quired. 

Vane glanced meaningly round the elaborately fur¬ 
nished room. 

" There’s a contrast between all this and that rotten 
shack. Did you notice that Celia never stopped sew¬ 
ing while we were there, though she once or twice 
leaned back rather heavily in her chair ? ” 

" I did. I suppose you’re going to propound an¬ 
other conundrum of a kind I’ve heard before — why 
you should have so many things you don’t particularly 
need, while Miss Hartley must go on sewing when 
she’s hardly able for it in her most unpleasant shack? 
I don’t know whether the fact that you found a mine 
answers the question; but if it doesn’t the thing’s be¬ 
yond your philosophy.” 


VANE YIELDS A POINT 


243 


‘‘Come off!” Vane bade him with signs of im¬ 
patience. “ There are times when your moralizing 
gets on one’s nerves. Anyhow, I straightened out one 
difficulty — I found the rent man, who’d been round 
worrying her, and got rid of him.” 

Carroll groaned in mock dismay, which covered 
some genuine annoyance with himself; but Vane 
frowned. 

“ What’s the matter? ” he inquired. “ Do you want 
a drink?” 

“ I’ll get over it,” Carroll informed him. “ It isn’t 
the first time I’ve suffered from the same complaint. 
But I’d like to point out that your chivalrous impulses 
may be the ruin of you some day. Why didn’t you 
let Drayton settle with the man? You gave him a 
check, I suppose ? ” 

“ Sure. I’d only a few loose dollars with me.” 
Vane frowned again. “ Now I see what you’re driv¬ 
ing at; and I want to say that any little reputation I 
possess can pretty well take care of itself.” 

“ Just so. No doubt it will be necessary; but it 
doesn’t seem to have struck you that you’re not the 
only person concerned.” 

“ It didn’t,” Vane confessed with a further show of 
irritation. “ But who’s likely to hear or take any 
notice of the thing? ” 

“ I can’t tell; but you make enemies as well as 
friends, and you’re walking in slippery places which 
you’re not altogether accustomed to. You can’t meet 
your difficulties with the ax here.” 

“ That’s true,” assented Vane. “ It’s rather a pity. 
Anyhow, I’m not to be scared out of my interest in 
Celia Hartley.” 


244 VANE OF THE TIMBERLANDS 

“ What is your interest in her ? It’s a question 
that may be asked.” 

“ As you pretend that you don’t know, I’ll have 
pleasure in telling you again. When I first struck 
this city, played out and ragged, she was waitress at a 
little hotel, and she brought me a double portion of 
the nicest things at supper. What’s more, she sewed 
up some of my clothes, and I struck a job on the 
strength of looking comparatively decent. It’s the 
kind of thing you’re apt to remember. One doesn’t 
meet with too much kindness in this blamed censori¬ 
ous world.” 

“ I’d expect you to remember,” Carroll smiled. 

They went in to dinner and when the meal was over 
they walked across to Nairn’s. They were ushered 
into a room in which several other guests were as¬ 
sembled, and Vane sat down beside Jessy Horsfield. 
A place on the sofa she occupied was invitingly empty; 
he did not know, of course, that she had adroitly got 
rid of her previous companion as soon as he came in. 

I want to thank you; I was over at Miss Hartley’s 
this afternoon,” he began. 

“ I understood that you were at the mining meet¬ 
ing.” 

So I was, your brother would tell you that —” 

Vane broke off, remembering that he had defeated 
Horsfield; but Jessy laughed encouragingly. 

“ He did so — you were opposed to him; but it 
doesn’t follow that I share all his views. Perhaps I 
ought to be a stauncher partizan.” 

‘‘ If you’ll be just to both of us. I’ll be satisfied.” 

Jessy reflected that while this was, no doubt, a com¬ 
mendable sentiment, he might have made a better use 


VANE YIELDS A POINT 


245 

of the opening she had given him by at least hinting 
that he would value her sympathy. 

“ I suppose that means that you’re convinced of the 
equity of your cause?” she suggested. 

“ I dare say I deserve the rebuke; but aren’t you 
trying to switch me off the subject?” Vane retorted 
with a laugh. “ It’s Celia Hartley that I want to talk 
about.” 

He did her an injustice. Jessy felt that she had 
earned his gratitude, and she had no objection to his 
expressing it. 

‘‘ It was a happy thought of yours to give her hats 
and things to make; I’m ever so much obliged to you,” 
he went on. “ I felt that you could be trusted to think 
of the right thing. An ingenious idea of that kind 
would never have occurred to me.” 

Jessy smiled up at him. 

“ It was very simple,” she said sweetly. I no¬ 
ticed a hat and dress of hers, which she admitted she 
had made. The girl has some talent; I’m only sorry 
I can’t keep her busy.” 

Couldn’t you give her an order for a dozen hats ? 
I’d be glad to be responsible.” 

Jessy laughed. 

“ The difficulty would be the disposal of them. 
They would be of no use to you; and I couldn’t allow 
you to present them to me.” 

“ I wish I could,” Vane declared. You certainly 
deserve them.” 

This was satisfactory, so far as it went, though 
Jessy would have preferred that his desire to bestow 
the favor should have sprung from some other motive 
than a recognition of her services to Celia Hartley. 


246 VANE OF THE TIMBERLANDS 

She was, however, convinced that his only feeling to¬ 
ward the girl was one of compassion. Then she saw 
that he was looking at her with half-humorous an¬ 
noyance in his face. 

“ Are you really grieved because I won’t take those 
hats? ” she asked lightly. 

“ I am,” Vane confessed, and then proceeded to 
explain with rather unnecessary ingenuousness: 
“ I’m still more vexed with the state of things that it’s 
typical of — I suppose I mean the restrictedness of 
this civilized life. When you want to do anything in 
the bush, you take the ax and set about it; but here 
you’re continually running up against some quite un¬ 
necessary barrier.” 

One understands that it’s worse in England,” 
Jessy returned dryly. “ But in regard to Miss Hart¬ 
ley, I’ll recommend her to my friends, as far as I can.” 

Vane made an abrupt movement, and Jessy real¬ 
ized by his expression that he had suddenly become 
oblivious of her presence. She had no doubt about the 
reason, for just then Evelyn Chisholm had entered 
the room. The lamplight fell upon her as she crossed 
the threshold, and Jessy recognized unwillingly that 
she looked surprisingly handsome. Handsome, how¬ 
ever, was not the word Vane would have used. He 
thought Evelyn looked exotic: highly cultivated, 
strangely refined, as though she had grown up in a 
rarefied atmosphere in which nothing rank could 
thrive. Exactly what suggested this it was difficult to 
define; but the man felt that she had brought along 
with her the clean, chill air of the heights where the 
cloud-berries bloom. She was a flower of the dim 
and misty North, which has nevertheless its flashes of 


VANE YIELDS A POINT 


247 


radiant, ethereal beauty. Though Evelyn had her 
faults, the impression she made on Vane was, perhaps, 
more or less justifiable. 

Then he remembered that the girl had been offered 
to him and he had refused the gift. He wondered 
how he had exerted the necessary strength of will, for 
he was conscious that admiration, respect, pity, had 
now changed and melted into sudden passion. His 
blood tingled, and he felt strangely happy. 

Laying a check upon his thoughts, he resumed a 
desultory conversation with Jessy, but he betrayed 
himself several times during it, for no change of his 
expression was lost upon the girl. At length she let 
him go. It was some time, however, before he secured 
a place beside Evelyn, a little apart from the others. 
He was now unusually quiet and self-contained. 

Nairn promised me an astonishment this evening, 
but it exceeds all my expectations,” he said. “ How 
are your people ? ” 

Evelyn informed him that their health was satis¬ 
factory and added, watching him the while: 

“ Gerald sent his best remembrances.” 

Thank you,” Vane responded in a casual manner; 

I am glad to have them.” 

Evelyn was now convinced that Mabel had been cor¬ 
rect in concluding that he had assisted Gerald finan¬ 
cially, though she was aware that nothing would in¬ 
duce either of the men to acquaint her with the fact. 

‘‘ And Mopsy ? ” he inquired. 

I left her in tears because she could not come. She 
sent you so many confused messages that Pm afraid 
Eve forgotten them.” 

Vane’s face grew gentle. 


248 VANE OF THE TIMBERLANDS 

“ Dear little girl! It’s a pity you couldn’t have 
brought her. Mopsy and I are great friends.” 

Evelyn smiled at him. The tenderness of the man 
appealed to her; and she knew that to be the friend of 
anyone meant a good deal to him. 

“ You are her hero,” she told him. ‘‘ I don’t think 
it is because you pulled her out of the water, either; in 
fact, I think you won her regard when you mended 
her canoe. You have a reputation to keep up with 
Mopsy.” 

There was no answering smile in Vane’s eyes. 

‘‘Well, I shouldn’t like to disappoint her; but isn’t 
it curious what effect some things have? A patch 
on Mopsy’s canoe, for instance — and I’ve known a 
piece of cold pie carry with it a big obligation.” 

The last was somewhat cryptic, and Evelyn looked 
at him with surprise, until it dawned on her that he 
had merely been half-consciously expressing a wander¬ 
ing thought aloud. 

“ I understood from Mrs. Naim that you were 
away in the bush,” she said. 

“ That was the case; and I’m shortly going off 
again. Perhaps it’s fortunate that I may be away 
some time. It will leave you more at ease.” 

The last remark was more of a question than an 
assertion. Evelyn knew that the man could be direct; 
and she esteemed candor. 

“ No,” she answered; “ I shouldn’t wish you to think 
that — and I shouldn’t like to believe that I had any¬ 
thing to do with driving you away.” 

Vane saw a faintly warmer tone show through the 
clear pallor of her skin, but while his heart beat faster 
than usual he recognized that she meant just what 


VANE YIELDS A POINT 


249 


she said and nothing more. He must proceed with 
caution, and this, on the whole, was foreign to him. 
Shortly afterward he left her. 

When he had gone, Evelyn sat thinking about him. 
She had shrunk from the man in rebellious alarm 
when her parents would have bestowed her hand on 
him; but even then, and undoubtedly afterward, she 
had felt that there was something in his nature which 
would have attracted her had she been willing to 
allow it to do so. Now, though he had said nothing 
to rouse it, the feeling had grown stronger. Then she 
remembered with a curious smile her father’s indig¬ 
nation when Vane had withdrawn from the field. 
He had done this because she had appealed to his 
generosity, and she had been grateful to him; but, 
unreasonable as she admitted the faint resentment she 
was conscious of to be, the recollection of the fact that 
he had yielded to her wishes was somehow bitter. 

In the meanwhile Carroll had taken his place by 
Jessy’s side. 

I understand that you steered your comrade satis¬ 
factorily through the meeting to-day,” she began. 

‘‘No,” objected Carrol; “I can’t claim any credit 
for doing so. In matters of that kind Vane takes 
full control; and I’m willing to own that he drove 
us all, including your brother, on the course he chose.” 

Jessy laughed good-humoredly. 

“ Then it’s in other matters you exercise a little 
judicious pressure on the helm? ” 

The man looked at her in well-assumed admiration 
of her keenness. 

“ I don’t know how you guessed it, but I suppose 
it’s a fact. It’s an open secret, however, that Vane’s 


250 VANE OF THE TIMBERLANDS 

now and then unguardedly ingenuous; indeed, there 
are respects in which he’s a babe by comparison with, 
we’ll say, either of us.” 

That’s rather a dubious compliment. By the way, 
what do you think of Miss Chisholm? I suppose 
you saw a good deal of her in England ? ” 

Carroll’s eyes twinkled. 

I spent a month or two in her company; so did 
Vane. I fancy she’s rather like him in several ways; 
and there are reasons for believing that he thinks a 
good deal of her.” 

Having watched Vane carefully when Evelyn came 
in, Jessy was inclined to agree with him. She glanced 
round the room. One or two people were moving 
about and the others were talking in little groups; but 
there was nobody very near, and she fancied that she 
and her companion were safe from interruption. 

What are some of the reasons? ” she asked boldly. 

Carroll had expected some question of this descrip¬ 
tion, and had decided to answer it plainly. It seemed 
probable that Jessy would get the information out 
of him in one way or another, anyway; and he had 
also another reason, which he thought a commendable 
one. Jessy had obviously taken a certain interest in 
Vane, but it could not have gone very far as yet, 
and Vane did not reciprocate it. His comrade, how¬ 
ever, was impulsive, while Jessy was calculating and 
clever; and Carroll foresaw that complications might 
follow any increase of friendliness between her and 
Vane. He thought it might be wise to warn her to 
leave Vane alone. 

“ Well,” he answered, “ since you have asked. I’ll 
try to tell you.” 


VANE YIELDS A POINT 


251 


He proceeded to recount what had passed at the 
Dene and Jessy listened, sitting perfectly still, with 
an expressionless face. 

‘‘ So he gave her up — because he admired her ? 
she said at length. 

“ That’s my view of it. Of course, it sounds un¬ 
likely, but I don’t think it is so in my partner’s 
case.” 

Jessy made no comment, but he felt that she was hit 
hard, and that was not what he had anticipated. He 
began to w'onder whether he had acted judiciously. 
He glanced about the room, as it did not seem con¬ 
siderate to study her expression just then. A few 
moments later she turned to him \^ith a smile in which 
there was the faintest hint of straift'.' 

I dare say you are right; but there arc one or two 
people to whom I haven’t spoken.” 

She moved away from him, and a little while after¬ 
ward Mrs. Nairn came upon Carroll standing for the 
moment alone. 

“ It’s no often one sees ye looking moody,” she said. 

Was Jessy no gracious? ” 

'' That,” replied Carroll, smiling, “ is not the dif¬ 
ficulty. I’m an unsusceptible and a somewhat in¬ 
conspicuous person — not worth powder and shot, so 
to speak; for which I’m sometimes thankful. I be¬ 
lieve it saves me a good deal of trouble.” 

“ Then is it something Vane has done that is on 
your mind? Doubtless, ye feel him a responsibility.” 

“ He’s what you’d call all that,” Carroll declared. 
“ Still, you see. I’ve constituted myself his guardian. 
I don’t know why; he’d probably be very vexed if he 
suspected it.” 


252 VANE OF THE TIMBERLANDS 

The gods give ye a good conceit of yourself,” 
Mrs. Nairn laughed. 

I need it This afternoon I let him do a most 
injudicious thing; and now I’ve done another which 
I fear is worse. On the whole, I think I’d better take 
him away to the bush. He’d be safer there.” 

‘‘Ye will no; no just now,” declared his hostess 
firmly. 

Carroll made a sign of resignation. 

“ Oh, well,” he agreed, “ if you say so. I’m quite 
willing to stand out and let things alone. Too many 
cooks are apt to spoil the kale.” 

Mrs. Nairn left him, but she afterward glanced 
thoughtfully once or twice at Vane and Evelyn, who 
had again drawn together. 


CHAPTER XXII 


EVELYN GOES FOR A SAIL 



ANE sat in Nairn’s office with a frown on his 


▼ face. Specimens of ore lately received from 
the mine were scattered about a table and Nairn had 
some papers in his hand. 

“ Weel? ” inquired the Scotchman when Vane, after 
examining two or three of the stones, abruptly flung 
them down. 

The ore’s running poorer. On the other hand, 
I partly expected this. There’s better stuff in the 
reef. We’re a little too high, for one thing; I look for 
more encouraging results when we start the lower 
heading.” 

He went into details of the new operations, and 
when he finished Nairn looked up from the figures he 
had been jotting down. 

Yon workings will cost a good deal,” he pointed 
out. Ye will no be able to make a start until we’re 
sure of the money.” 

‘‘We ought to get it.” 

Nairn looked thoughtful. 

“ A month or two ago, I would have agreed with 
ye; but general investors are kittle folk, and the ap¬ 
plications for the new stock are no numerous.” 

“ Howitson promised to subscribe largely; and 
Bendle pledged himself to take a considerable block.” 


253 


254 VANE OF THE TIMBERLANDS 

“ I’m no denying it. But we have no been favored 
with their formal applications yet.” 

“ You had better tell me if you have anything par¬ 
ticular in your mind,” Vane said bluntly. 

An unqualified affirmation is not strictly in accord¬ 
ance with the Scottish character, and Nairn was 
seldom rash. 

“ I would have ye remember what I told ye about 
the average investor,” he replied. “ He has no often 
the boldness to trust his judgment nor the sense to ken 
a good thing when he sees it — he waits for a lead, and 
then joins the rush when other folk are going in. 
What makes a mineral or other stock a favorite for 
a time is now and then no easy to determine; but 
we’ll allow that it becomes so — ye will see men who 
should have mair sense thronging to buy and running 
the price up. Like sheep they come-in, each follow¬ 
ing the other; and like sheep they run out, if anything 
scares them. It’s no difficult to start a panic.” 

The plain English of it is that the mine is not 
so popular as it was,” retorted Vane impatiently. 

“ I’m thinking something of the kind,” Nairn agreed. 
Then he proceeded with a cautious explanation: The 
result of the first reduction and the way ye forced the 
concern on the market secured ye notice. Folk put 
their money on ye, looking for sensational develop¬ 
ments, and when the latter are no forthcoming they 
feel a bit sore and disappointed.” 

“ There’s nothing discouraging in our accounts. 
Even if the ore all ran as poor as that,”— Vane pointed 
to the specimens on the table —“ the mine could be 
worked on a reasonably satisfactory paying basis. 


EVELYN GOES FOR A SAIL 255 

We have issued no statements that could spread 
alarm.” 

“ Just so. What was looked for was more than 
reasonable satisfaction — ye have no come up to ex¬ 
pectations. Forby, it’s my opinion that damaging re¬ 
ports have somehow leaked out from the mine. Just 
now I see clouds on the horizon.” 

“ Bendle pledged himself to take up a big block 
of the shares,” repeated Vane. “ If Howitson does 
the same, as he said he would, our position would be 
secure. As soon as it was known that they were 
largely interested, others would follow them.” 

“ Now ye have it in a nutshell — it would put a 
wet blanket on the project if they both backed down. 
In the meanwhile we canna hurry them. Ye will 
have to give them time.” 

Vane rose. 

“ We’ll leave it at that. I’ve promised to take Mrs. 
Nairn and Miss Chisholm for a sail.” 

By the time he reached the water-front he had got 
rid of the slight uneasiness the interview had occa¬ 
sioned him. He found Mrs. Nairn and Evelyn await¬ 
ing him with Carroll in attendance, and in a few 
minutes they were rowing off to the sloop. As they 
approached her, the elder lady glanced with evident 
approval at the craft, which swam, a gleaming ivory 
shape, upon the shining green brine. 

“Ye have surely been painting the boat,” she ex¬ 
claimed. “Was that for us?” 

Vane disregarded the question. 

“ She wanted it, and paint’s comparatively cheap. 
It has been good drying weather the last few days.” 


256 VANE OF THE TIMBERLANDS 

It was a little thing, but Evelyn was pleased. The 
girls had not been greatly considered at the Dene, and 
it was flattering to recognize that the man had thought 
it worth while to decorate his craft in her honor; she 
supposed it had entailed a certain amount of work. 
She did not ask herself if he had wished to please her; 
he had invited her for a sail some days ago, and he 
was thorough in everything he did. He helped her 
and Mrs. Nairn on board and when they sat down in 
the well he and Carroll proceeded to hoist the mainsail. 
It looked exceedingly large as it thrashed and fluttered 
above their heads, and there seemed to be a bewil¬ 
dering quantity of ropes, but Evelyn was interested 
chiefly in watching Vane. 

He was wonderfully quick, but no movement was 
wasted. His face was intent, his glances sharp, and 
she liked the crisp, curt way in which he spoke to 
Carroll. The man’s task was, in one sense, not im¬ 
portant, but he was absorbed in it. Then while Car- 
roll slipped the moorings. Vane ran up the headsails 
and springing aft seized the tiller as the boat, slanting 
over, commenced to forge through the water. It was 
the first time Evelyn had ever traveled under sail and, 
receptive as she was of all new impressions, she sat 
silent a few minutes rejoicing in the sense of swift 
and easy motion. The inlet was crisped by small 
white ripples, and the boat with her boom broad off on 
her quarter drove through them, with a wedge of foam 
on her lee bow and a stream of froth sluicing past 
her sides. Overhead, the great inclined sail cut, 
sharply white, against the dazzling blue of the mid¬ 
morning sky. 

Evelyn glanced farther around. Wharves stacked 


EVELYN GOES FOR A SAIL 257 

with lumber, railroad track, clustering roofs, smoking 
mills, were flitting fast astern. Ahead, a big side- 
wheel steamer was forging, foam-ringed, toward her, 
with the tall spars of a four-master towering behind, 
and stately pines, that apparently walled in the har¬ 
bor, a little to one side. To starboard, beyond the 
wide stretch of white-flecked water, mountains ran 
back in ranks, with the chilly gleam of snow, which 
had crept lower since her arrival, upon their shoulders. 
It was a sharp contrast: the noisy, raw-new city and, 
so close at hand, the fringe of the wilderness. 

They swept out through the gate of the Narrows, 
and Vane luffed the boat up to a moderately fresh 
breeze. 

It’s off the land, and we’ll have fairly smooth 
water,” he explained. “How do you like sailing?” 

Evelyn watched the white ridges, which were larger 
than the ripples in the inlet, smash in swift succes¬ 
sion upon the weather bow and hurl the glittering 
spray into the straining mainsail. There was some¬ 
thing fascinating in the way the gently-swaying boat 
clove through them. 

“ It’s glorious! ” she cried, looking first ahead then 
back toward the distant snow. “If anything more 
were wanted, there are the mountains, too.” 

Vane smiled, but there was a suggestive sparkle in 
his eyes. 

“ Yes; we have them both, and that’s something 
to be thankful for. The sea and the mountains — 
the two grandest things in this world!” 

“If you think that, how did you reconcile yourself 
to the city ? ” 

“ I’m not sure that I’ve done so.” He indicated the 


2 S8 vane of the timberlands 

gleaming heights. Anyway, Tm going back up 
yonder very soon.” 

Mrs. Nairn glanced at Carroll, who affected to be 
busy with a rope; then she turned to Vane. 

It will no be possible with winter coming on.” 

“ It's not really so bad then,” Vane declared. “ Be¬ 
sides, I expect to get my work done before the hardest 
weather’s due.” 

“ But ye canna leave Vancouver until ye have set¬ 
tled about the mine! ” 

‘‘ I don’t want to,” Vane admitted. That’s not 
quite the same thing.” 

“ It is with a good many people,” Carroll interposed 
with a smile. 

Evelyn fancied that there was something behind all 
this, but it did not directly concern her and she made 
no inquiry. In the meanwhile they were driving on 
to the southward, opening up the straits, with the 
forests to port growing smaller and the short seas 
increasing in size. The breeze was cold, but the girl 
was warmly clad and the easy motion in no way 
troubled her. The rush of keen salt air stirred her 
blood, and all round her were spread wonderful 
harmonies of silver-laced blue and green, through 
which the straining fabric that carried her swept on. 
The mountains were majestic, but except when tem¬ 
pests lashed their crags or torrents swept their lower 
slopes they were wrapped in eternal repose; the sea 
was filled with ecstatic motion. 

‘'The hills have their fascination; it’s a thing I 
know,” she said, to draw the helmsman out. “ I 
think I should like the sea, too; but at first sight it’s 
charm isn’t quite so plain.” 


EVELYN GOES FOR A SAIL 259 

“ You have started him,” interposed Carroll. ‘‘ He 
won’t refuse that challenge.” 

Vane accepted it with a smile which meant more 
than good-humored indulgence. 

“ Well,” he declared, the sea’s the same every¬ 
where, unbridled, unchanging; a force that remains 
as it was in the beginning. Once you’re out of har¬ 
bor, under sail, you have done with civilization. It 
has possibly provided you with excellent gear, but it 
can do no more; you stand alone, stripped for the 
struggle with the elements.*’ 

“ Is it always a struggle ? ” 

Always. The sea’s as treacherous as the winds 
that vex it, pitiless, murderous. When you have only 
sail to trust to, you can never relax your vigilance; 
you must watch the varying drift of clouds and the 
swing of the certain tides. There’s nothing and no¬ 
body to fall back upon when the breeze pipes its chal¬ 
lenge; you have sloughed off civilization and must 
stand or fall by the raw natural powers with which 
man is born, and chief among them is the capacity for 
brutal labor. The thrashing sail must be mastered; 
the tackle creaking with the strain must be hauled in. 
Perhaps, that’s the charm of it for some of us whose 
lives are pretty smooth — it takes one back, as I said, 
to the beginning.” 

“ But haven’t human progress and machines made 
life more smooth for everybody? ” 

Vane laughed somewhat grimly. 

Oh, no; I think that can never be done. So far, 
somebody pays for the others’ ease. At sea, in the 
mine and in the bush man still grapples with a rugged, 
naked world.” 


26 o vane of the timberlands 


The girl was pleased. She had drawn him out, and 
she thought that in speaking he had kept a fair balance 
between too crude a mode of colloquial expression and 
poetic elaboration. There was, she knew, a vein of 
poetic conception in him, and the struggle he had 
hinted at could be described fittingly only in heroic 
language. It was in one sense a pity that those who 
had the gift of it and cultivated imagination had, 
for the most part, never been forced into the fight; 
but that was, perhaps, not a matter of much impor¬ 
tance. There were plenty of men, such as her com¬ 
panion, endowed with steadfast endurance who, if 
they seldom gave their thoughts free rein, rejoiced 
in the struggle; and by them the world’s sternest 
work was done. 

‘‘ After all,” she went on, ‘‘ we have the mountains 
in civilized England.” 

Vane did not respond with the same freedom this 
time. He was inclined to think he had spoken too 
unrestrainedly. 

“Yes,” he agreed, smiling; “you can walk about 
them — where you won’t disturb the grouse — and 
they’re grand enough; but if you look down you can 
see the motor dust trails and the tourist coaches in 
the valleys.” 

“ But why shouldn’t people enjoy themselves in that 
way ? ” 

“ I can’t think of any reason. No doubt most of 
them have earned the right to do so. But you can’t 
rip up those hills with giant-powder where you feel 
inclined, or set to work to root out some miles of 
forest. The Government encourages that kind of 
thing here.” 


EVELYN GOES FOR A SAIL 261 


And that’s the charm?” 

‘‘Yes; I suppose it is.” 

“ I’d better explain,” Carroll interposed. “ Men of 
a certain temperament are apt to fall a prey to fantasies 
in the newer lands; any common sense they once pos¬ 
sessed seems to desert them. After that, they’re never 
happy except when they’re ripping things — such as 
big rocks and trees — to pieces, and though they’ll 
tell you it’s only to get out minerals or to clear a ranch, 
they’re wrong. Once they get the mine or ranch, 
they don’t care about it; they set to work wrecking 
things again. Isn’t that true, Mrs. Nairn?” 

“ There are such crazy bodies,” agreed the lady. 
“ I know one or two; but if I had my way with them, 
they should find one mine, or build one sawmill.” 

“ And then,” supplied Carroll, “ you would chain 
them up for good by marrying them.” 

“ I would like to try, but I’m no sure it would act 
in every case. I have come across some women as 
bad as the men; they would drive their husbands 
on.” 

She smiled in a half wistful manner. 

“ Maybe,” she added, “ it’s as well to do something 
worth the remembering when ye are young. There’s 
a long while to sit still in afterward.” 

Half in banter and half in earnest, they had given 
Evelyn a hint of the master passion of the true colonist, 
whose pride is in his burden. Afterward, Mrs. Nairn 
led the conversation until Carroll laid out in the saloon 
a somewhat elaborate lunch which he had brought from 
the hotel. Then the others went below, leaving Vane 
at the helm. When they came up again, Carroll 
looked at his comrade ruefully. 


262 VANE OF THE TIMBERLANDS 


“I’m afraid Miss Chisholm’s disappointed/’ he 
said. 

“No,” declared Evelyn; “that would be most un¬ 
grateful. I only expected a more characteristic ex¬ 
ample of sea cookery. After what Mr. Vane told us, 
a lunch like the one you provided, with glass and silver, 
struck me as rather an anachronism.” 

“ It’s better to be broken in to sea cookery gently,” 
Vane interposed with some dryness. 

Evelyn laughed. 

“ It’s a poor compliment to take it for granted that 
we’re afraid of a little hardship. Besides, I don’t 
think you’re right.” 

Vane left the helm to Carroll and went below. 

“ He won’t be long,” Carroll informed the girl, 
with a smile. “ He hasn’t got rid of all his primitive 
habits yet. I’ll give him ten minutes.” 

When Vane came up, he glanced about him before 
he resumed the helm and noticed that it was blowing 
fresher. They were also drawing out from the land 
and the short seas were getting bigger; but he held 
on to the whole sail, and an hour or so afterward a 
white iron bark, light in ballast, with her rusty load- 
line high above the water, came driving up to meet 
them. She made a striking picture, Evelyn thought, 
with the great curve of her forecourse, which was still 
set, stretching high above the foam that spouted about 
her bows and tier upon tier of gray canvas diminish¬ 
ing aloft. With the wind upon her quarter, she rode 
on an even keel, and the long iron hull, gleaming 
snowily in the sunshine, drove on, majestic, through 
a field of white-flecked green and azure. Abreast of 


EVELYN GOES FOR A SAIL 263 

one quarter, a propeller tug that barely kept pace with 
her belched out a cloud of smoke. 

Her skipper’s been up here before — he’s no doubt 
coming for salmon,” Vane explained. Then he 
turned to Carroll. ‘‘ We’d better pass to lee of her.” 

Carroll let a foot or two of a rope run out and 
the sloop’s bows swung round a little. Her rail was 
just awash, and she was sailing very fast. Then her 
deck slanted more sharply and the low rail became 
submerged in rushing foam. 

‘‘ We’ll heave down a reef when we’re clear of the 
bark,” Vane said. 

The vessel was now to windward and coming up 
rapidly; to shorten sail they must first round up the 
boat, for which they no longer had room. A few 
moments later a fiercer blast swept suddenly down and 
the water boiled white between the bark and the sloop. 
The latter’s deck dipped deeper until the lower part 
of it was lost in streaming froth. Carroll made an 
abrupt movement. 

“ Shall I drop the peak ? ” 

“ No. There’s the propeller close to lee.” 

The tug was hidden by the inclined sail, but Evelyn, 
clinging tightly to the coaming, understood that they 
were running into the gap between the two vessels 
and in order to avoid collision with one or the other, 
must hold on as they were through the stress of the 
squall. How much more the boat would stand she 
did not know, but it looked as if it were going over 
bodily. Then a glance at the helmsman’s face reas¬ 
sured her. It was fixed and expressionless, but she 
somehow felt that whatever was necessary would be 


264 VANE OF THE TIMBERLANDS 

promptly done. He was not one to lose his nerve or 
vacillate in a crisis, and his immobility appealed to her, 
because she knew that if occasion arose it would be 
replaced by prompt decisive action. 

In the meanwhile the slant of sail and deck in¬ 
creased. One side of the sloop was hove high out of 
the sea. It was all the girl could do to hold herself 
upright, and Mrs. Naim had fallen against and was 
only supported by the coaming to leeward. Then the 
wind was suddenly cut off and the sloop rose with a 
bewildering lurch, as the tall iron hull to weather 
forged by, hurling off the sea. She passed, and while 
Vane called out something and Carroll scrambled for¬ 
ward, the sloop swayed violently down again. Every¬ 
thing in her creaked; the floorings sloped away be¬ 
neath Evelyn’s feet, and now the madly-whirling froth 
poured in across the coaming. The veins stood out 
on the helmsman’s forehead, his pose betrayed the 
tension on his arms; but the sloop was swinging round, 
and she fell off before the wind when the upper half 
of the great sail collapsed. 

Rising more upright, she flung the water off her 
deck, and for some moments drove on at a bewilder¬ 
ing speed; then there was a mad thrashing as Vane 
brought her on the wind again. The two men, des¬ 
perately busy, mastered the fluttering sail, and in a 
few more minutes they were running homeward, with 
the white seas splashing harmlessly astern. It was 
now difficult to believe they had been in any danger, but 
Evelyn felt that she had had an instance of the sea’s 
treachery; what was more, she had witnessed an 
exhibition of human nerve and skill. Vane, with his 
half-formulated thoughts which yet had depth to 


EVELYN GOES FOR A SAIL 265 

them and his flashes of imagination, had interested 
her; but now he had been revealed in his finer capacity, 
as a man of action. 

I’d have kept to weather of the bark, where we’d 
have had room to luff, if I’d expected that burst of 
wind,” he explained. “ Did you hurt yourself against 
the coaming, Mrs. Nairn?” 

The lady smiled reassuringly. 

‘‘ It’s no worth mentioning, and I’m no altogether 
unused to it. Alic once kept a boat and would have 
me out with him.” 

The remainder of the trip proved uneventful, and 
as they ran homeward the breeze gradually died away. 
The broad inlet lay still in the moonlight when they 
crept across it with the water lapping very faintly 
about the bows, and it was over a mirror-like surface 
they rowed ashore. Nairn was waiting at the foot 
of the steps and Evelyn walked back with him, feeling, 
she could not tell exactly why, that she had been 
drawn closer to the sloop’s helmsman. 


CHAPTER XXIII 


VANE PROVES OBDURATE 

V ANE Spent two or three weeks very pleasantly 
in Vancouver, for Evelyn, of whom he saw a 
good deal, was gracious to him. The embarrassment 
both had felt on their first meeting in the western city 
had speedily vanished; they had resumed their ac¬ 
quaintance on what was ostensibly a purely friendly 
footing, and since both avoided any reference to 
what had taken place in England, it had ripened into a 
mutual confidence and appreciation. 

This would have been less probable in the older coun¬ 
try, where they would have been continually reminded 
of what the Chisholm family expected of them; but 
the past seldom counts for much in the new and 
changeful West, where men look forward to the fu¬ 
ture. Indeed, there is something in its atmosphere 
which banishes regret and retrospection; and when 
Evelyn looked back at all, she felt inclined to wonder 
why she had once been so troubled by the man’s satis¬ 
faction with her company. She decided that this 
could not have been the result of any aversion for 
him, and that it was merely an instinctive revolt 
against the part her parents had wished to force upon 
her. Chisholm and his wife had blundered, as such 
people often do, for it is possible that had they adopted 
a perfectly neutral attitude everything would have 
266 


VANE PROVES OBDURATE 267 

gone as they desired. Their mistake was nevertheless 
a natural one. Somewhat exaggerated reports of 
Vane’s prosperity had reached them; but while they 
coveted the advantages his wealth might offer their 
daughter, in their secret hearts they looked upon him 
as a raw Colonial and something of a barbarian, and 
the opinions he occasionally expressed in their hearing 
did not dispel this idea. Both feared that Evelyn 
regarded him in the same light, and it accordingly be¬ 
came evident that a little pressure might be required. 
In spite of their prejudices, they did not shrink from 
applying it. 

In the meanwhile, several people in Vancouver 
watched the increase of friendliness between the girl 
and Vane. Mrs. Nairn and her husband did so with 
benevolent interest, and it was by Mrs. Nairn’s adroit 
management, which even Evelyn did not often suspect, 
that they were thrown more and more into each other’s 
company. Jessy Horsfield, however, looked on with 
bitterness. She was a strong-willed young woman 
who hitherto had generally contrived to obtain what¬ 
ever she had set her heart on; and she had set it on this 
man. Indeed, she had fancied that he returned the 
feeling, but disillusionment had come on the evening 
when he had unexpectedly met Evelyn. Her smolder¬ 
ing resentment against the girl grew steadily stronger, 
until it threatened to prove dangerous on opportunity. 

There were, however, days when Vane was dis¬ 
turbed in mind. Winter was coming on, and although 
it is rarely severe on the southern seaboard, it is by 
no means the season one would choose for an ad¬ 
venture among the ranges of the northern wilderness. 
Unless he made his search for the spruce very shortly 


268 VANE OF THE TIMBERLANDS 


he might be compelled to postpone it until the spring, 
at the risk of some hardy prospector’s forestalling 
him; but there were two reasons which detained him. 
He thought that he was gaining ground in Evelyn’s 
esteem and he feared the effect of absence, and there 
was no doubt that the new issue of the Clermont shares 
was in very slack demand. To leave the city might 
cost him a good deal in several ways, but he had 
pledged himself to go. 

That fact was uppermost in his mind one eve¬ 
ning when he set off to call on Celia Hartley. As it 
happened, Evelyn and Mrs. Nairn were driving past 
as he turned off from a busy street toward the quarter 
in which she lived. It had been dark for some time, 
but the street was well lighted and Evelyn had no 
difficulty in recognizing him. Indeed, she watched 
him for a few moments while he passed on into a more 
shadowy region, where the gloom and dilapidation 
of the first small frame houses were noticeable. Be¬ 
yond them there was scarcely a light at all; the neigh¬ 
borhood looked mysterious, and she wondered what 
kind of people inhabited it. She did not think that 
Mrs. Nairn had noticed Vane. 

“ You have never taken me into the district on our 
left,” she said. 

** I’m no likely to. We’re no proud of it.” 

Evelyn was a little astonished. She had seen no 
signs of squalor or dissipation since she entered Can¬ 
ada, and had almost fancied that they did not exist. 

'' I suppose the Chinese and other aliens live 
there ? ” 

‘‘ They do,” was the dry answer. '' I’m no sure, 
however, that they’re the worst.” 


VANE PROVES OBDURATE 269 

‘‘ But one understands that you haven’t a criminal 
population.” 

‘‘We have folk who’re on the fringe of it, only we 
see that they live all together. Folk who would be 
respectable live somewhere else, except, maybe, a few 
who have to consider cheapness. There’s no great 
difference in human nature wherever ye find it, and 
I do no suppose we’re very much better than the rest 
of the world; but it’s no a recommendation to be seen 
going into yon quarter after dark.” 

This left Evelyn thoughtful, for she had undoubt¬ 
edly seen Vane going there. She considered herself 
a judge of character and generally trusted her intu¬ 
itions, and she believed that the man’s visit to the 
neighborhood in question admitted of some satisfac¬ 
tory explanation. On the other hand, she felt that 
her friends should be beyond suspicion. Taking it 
all round, she was rather vexed with Vane, and it 
cost her some trouble to drive the matter out of her 
mind. 

She did not see Vane the next day, but the latter 
called upon Nairn at his office during the afternoon. 

“ Have you had any more applications for the new 
stock ? ” he asked. 

“ I have no. Neither Bendle nor Howitson has 
paid up yet, though I’ve seen them about it once or 
twice.” 

“ Investors are shy; that’s a fact,” Vane confessed. 
“ It’s unfortunate. I’ve already put off my trip north 
as long as possible. I wanted to see things arranged 
on a satisfactory basis before I went.” 

“ A very prudent wish. I should advise ye to 
carry it out.” 


270 VANE OF THE TIMBERLANDS 

“ What do you mean by that ? 

Something like this — if the money’s no forth¬ 
coming, we may be compelled to fall back upon a dif¬ 
ferent plan, and unless ye’re to the fore, the decision 
of a shareholders’ meeting might no suit ye. Consid¬ 
ering the position and the stock ye hold, any views ye 
might express would carry more weight than mine 
would do in your absence.” 

Vane drummed with his fingers on the table. 

I suppose that’s the case; but I’ve got to make the 
journey. With moderately good fortune it shouldn’t 
take me long.” 

“ Ye would be running some risk if anything de¬ 
layed ye and we had to call a meeting before ye got 
back.” 

Vane frowned. 

“ I see that; but it can’t be helped. I expect to be 
back before I’m wanted. Anyway, I could leave you 
authority to act on my behalf.” 

After a further attempt to dissuade him, Nairn 
spread out one hand resignedly. 

“ He who will to Cupar maun be left to gang,” he 
said. ‘‘ Whiles, I have wondered why any one should 
be so keen on getting there, but doubtless a douce 
Scottish town has mair attractions for a sensible per¬ 
son than the rugged Northwest in the winter-time.” 

Vane smiled and shortly afterward went out and 
left him; and when Nairn reached home he briefly 
recounted the interview to his wife over his evening 
meal. Evelyn listened attentively. 

“ Yon man will no hear reason,” Nairn concluded. 
‘‘ He’s thrawn.” 

Evelyn had already noticed that her host, for whom 


VANE PROVES OBDURATE 271 

she had a strong liking, spoke broader Scotch when he 
was either amused or angry, and she supposed that 
Vane’s determination disturbed him. 

“ But why should he persist in leaving the city, 
when it’s to his disadvantage to do so, as you lead one 
to believe it is ? ” she asked. 

‘‘If the latter’s no absolutely certain, it’s very 
likely.” 

“ You have answered only half my question.” 

Mrs. Nairn smiled. 

“ Alic,” she explained, “ is reserved by nature; but 
if ye’re anxious for an answer, I might tell ye.” 

“ Anxious hardly describes it.” 

“ Then we’ll say curious. The fact is that Vane 
made a bargain with a sick prospector, in which he 
undertook to locate some timber the man had discov¬ 
ered away among the mountains. He was to pay the 
other a share of its value when he got his Government 
license.” 

“ Is the timber very valuable ? ” 

“ No,” broke in Nairn. “ One might make a fair 
business profit out of pulping it, though the thing’s far 
from certain.” 

“ Then why is Mr. Vane so determined on finding 
it?” 

The question gave Mrs. Nairn a lead, but she de¬ 
cided to say no more than was necessary. 

“ The prospector died, but that bound the bargain 
tighter, in Vane’s opinion. The man died without a 
dollar, leaving a daughter worn out and ill with nurs¬ 
ing him. According to the arrangement, his share will 
go to the girl.” 

“ Then,”, said Evelyn, “ Mr. Vane is really under- 


272 VANE OF THE TIMBERLANDS 

taking the search, which may involve him in diffi¬ 
culties, in order to keep his promise to a man who is 
dead? And he will not even postpone it, because if 
he did so this penniless girl might, perhaps, lose her 
share ? Isn’t that rather fine of him ? ” 

On the whole, ye understand the position,” Nairn 
agreed. “ If ye desire my view of the matter, I would 
merely say that yon’s the kind ofi man he is.” 

Evelyn made no further comment, though the last 
common phrase struck her as a most eloquent tribute. 
She had heard Vane confess that he did not want to 
go north at present, and she now understood that to 
do so might jeopardize his interests in the mine; but 
he was undoubtedly going. He meant to keep his 
promise in its fullest and widest meaning — that was 
what one would expect of him. 

One mild afternoon, a few days later, he took her 
for a drive among the Stanley pines, and, though she 
knew that she would regret his departure, she was un¬ 
usually friendly. Vane rejoiced at it, but he had 
already decided that he must endeavor to proceed 
with caution and to content himself in the meanwhile 
with the part of trusted companion. For this reason, 
he chatted lightly, which he felt was safer, during most 
of the drive; but once or twice, when by chance or 
design she asked a leading question, he responded with¬ 
out reserve. He did so when they were approaching a 
group of giant conifers. 

“ I wonder whether you ever feel any regret at hav¬ 
ing left England for this country ? ” she asked. 

“ I did so pretty often when I first came out,” he 
answered with a smile. ‘‘ In those days I had to work 
in icy water and carry massive lumps of rock.” 


VANE PROVES OBDURATE 273 

“ I dare say regret was a natural feeling then; but 
that wasn’t quite what I meant.” 

“ So I supposed,” Vane confessed. “ Well, I’d 
better own that when I’d spent a week or two in Eng¬ 
land — at the Dene — I began to think I’d missed a 
good deal by not staying at home. It struck me that 
the life you led had a singular charm. Everything 
went so smoothly there, among the sheltering hills. 
One felt that care and anxiety could not creep in. 
Somehow, the place reminded me of Avalon.” 

‘‘ The impression was by no means correct,” smiled 
Evelyn. ‘‘ But I don’t think you have finished. Won’t 
you go on ? ” 

“ Then if I get out of my depth, you mustn’t blame 
me. By and by I discovered that charm wasn’t the 
right word — the place was permeated with a narcotic 
spell.” 

“ Narcotic? Do you think the term’s more appro¬ 
priate ? ” 

I do. Narcotics, one understands, are insidious 
things. If you take them regularly, in small doses, 
they increase their hold on you until you become 
wrapped up in dreams and unrealities. If, however, 
you get too big a dose of them at the beginning, it 
leads to a vigorous revulsion. It’s nature’s warning 
and remedy.” 

‘‘You’re not flattering; but I almost fancy you’re 
right.” 

“ We are told that man was made to struggle — to 
use all his powers. If he rests too long beside the still 
backwaters of life, in fairy-like dales, they’re apt to 
atrophy, and he finds himself slack and nerveless when 
he goes out to face the world again.” 


274 VANE OF THE TIMBERLANDS 

Evelyn nodded, for she had felt and striven against 
the insidious influence of which he spoke. She had 
now and then left the drowsy dale for a while; but the 
life of which she had then caught glimpses was equally 
sheltered — one possible only to the favored few. 
Even the echoes of the real tense struggle seldom passed 
its boundaries. 

“ But you confessed not long ago that you loved the 
western wilderness,” she said. ‘‘You have spent a 
good deal of time in it; and you expect to do so again. 
After all, isn’t that only exchanging one beautiful, tran¬ 
quil region for another? The bush must be even 
quieter than the English dales.” 

“ Perhaps I haven’t made the point quite clear. 
When one goes up into the bush, it’s not to lounge and 
dream there, but to make war upon it with ax and 
drill.” 

He pulled up his team and pointed to the clump of 
giant trees. 

“ Look there! That’s nature’s challenge to man in 
this country.” 

Evelyn recognized that it was an impressive one. 
The great trunks ran up far aloft, tremendous col¬ 
umns, before their brighter portions were lost in the 
vaulted roof of somber greenery. They dwarfed the 
rig and team; she felt herself a pygmy by comparison. 

“ They’re a little larger than the average,” her com¬ 
panion explained. “ Still, that’s the kind of thing 
you run up against when you buy land to start a ranch 
or clear the ground for a mine. Chopping, saw¬ 
ing up, splitting those giants doesn’t fill one with 
languorous dreams; the only dreams that our axmen 
indulge in materialize. It’s an unending, bracing 


VANE PROVES OBDURATE 275 

struggle. There are leagues and leagues of trees, 
shrouding the valleys in a shadow that has lasted since 
the world was young; but you see the dawn of a won¬ 
derful future breaking in as the long ranks go down.” 

Once more, without clearly intending it, he had 
stirred the girl. He had not spoken in that rather 
fanciful style to impress her; she knew that, trusting 
in her comprehension, he had merely given his ideas 
free rein. But in doing so he had somehow made her 
hear the trumpet-call to action which, for such men, 
rings through the roar of the river and the song of the 
tall black pines. 

“ Ah! ” she murmured, ‘‘ it must be a glorious life, 
in many ways; but it’s bound to have its drawbacks. 
Doesn’t the flesh shrink from them ? ” 

‘‘ The flesh ? ” He laughed. “ In this land the 
flesh takes second place — except, perhaps, in the 
cities.” He turned and looked at her curiously. 
‘‘Why should you talk of shrinking? The bush 
couldn’t daunt you; you have courage.” 

The girl’s eyes sparkled, but not at the compliment. 
His words rang with freedom; the freedom of the 
heights, where heroic effort was the rule, in place of 
luxury. She longed now, as she had often done, to 
escape from bondage; to break away. 

“Ah, well,” she said, smiling half wistfully; “per¬ 
haps it’s fortunate that such courage as I have may 
never be put to the test.” 

Though reticence was difficult. Vane made no com¬ 
ment. He had already spoken unguardedly, and he 
decided that caution would be desirable. As he started 
the team, an automobile came up, and he looked around 
as he drove on. 


276 VANE OF THE TIMBERLANDS 

“ It’s curious that I never heard the thing,” he re¬ 
marked. 

I didn’t, either,” replied Evelyn. I was too much 
engrossed in the trees. But I think Miss Horsfield was 
in it.” 

“ Was she? ” responded Vane in a very casual man¬ 
ner ; and Evelyn, for no reason that she was willing to 
recognize, was pleased. 

She had not been mistaken. Jessy Horsfield was in 
the automobile, and she had had a few moments in 
which to study Vane and his companion. The man’s 
look and the girl’s expression had struck her as sig¬ 
nificant; and her lips set in an ominously tight line as 
the car sped on. She felt that she almost hated Vane; 
and there was no doubt that she entirely hated the girl 
at his side. It would be soothing to humiliate her, to 
make her suffer, and though the exact mode of setting 
about it was not very clear just yet, she thought it 
might be managed. Her companion wondered why 
she looked preoccupied during the rest of the journey. 


CHAPTER XXIV 

JESSY STRIKES 


TT was the afternoon before Vane’s departure for 
^ the North, and Evelyn, sitting alone for the time 
being in Mrs. Nairn’s drawing-room, felt disturbed 
by the thought of it. She sympathized with his object, 
as it had been briefly related by her hostess, but she 
supposed there was a certain risk attached to the jour¬ 
ney, and that troubled her. In addition to this, there 
was another point on which she was not altogether 
pleased. She had twice seen him acknowledge a bow 
from a very pretty girl whose general appearance sug¬ 
gested that she did not belong to Evelyn’s own walk 
in life, and that very morning she had noticed him 
crossing a street in the young woman’s company. 
Vane, as it happened, had met Kitty Blake by accident 
and had asked her to accompany him on a visit to 
Celia. Evelyn did not think she was of a jealous dis¬ 
position, and jealousy appeared irrational in the case 
of a man whom she had dismissed as a suitor; but the 
thing undoubtedly rankled in her mind. While she 
was considering it, Jessy Horsfield entered the room. 

‘‘ I’m here by invitation, to join Mr. Vane’s other 
old friends in giving him a good send-off,” she ex¬ 
plained. ‘‘ Only, Mrs. Nairn told me to come over 
earlier.” 

Evelyn noticed that Jessy laid some stress upon her 

277 


278 VANE OF THE TIMBERLANDS 

acquaintance with Vane, and wondered whether she 
had any motive for doing so. 

“ I suppose you have known him for some time ? ” 

‘‘ Oh, yes,'’ was the careless answer. “ My brother 
was one of the first to take him up when he came to 
Vancouver.” 

The phrase jarred on Evelyn. It savored of patron¬ 
age; besides, she did not like to think that Vane owed 
anything to the Horsfields. 

“ Though I don’t know much about it, I understood 
that they were opposed to each other,” she said coldly. 

Jessy laughed. 

‘‘ Their business interests don’t coincide; but it 
doesn’t follow that they should disagree about anything 
else. My brother did all he could to dissuade Mr. 
Vane from going on with his search for the timber 
until the winter is over.” 

This was true, inasmuch as Horsfield had spoken 
to Vane about the subject, though it is possible that he 
would not have done so had he expected the latter to 
yield to his reasoning. Vane was one whom opposi¬ 
tion usually rendered more determined. 

“ I think it is rather fine of him to persist in it,” 
Evelyn declared. 

Jessy smiled, though she felt venomous just then. 

“Yes,” she agreed; “one undoubtedly feels that. 
Besides, the thing’s so characteristic of him; the man’s 
impulsively generous and not easily daunted. He pos¬ 
sesses many of the rudimentary virtues, as well as some 
of the corresponding weaknesses, which is very much 
what one would look for.” 

“ What do you mean by that ? ” Evelyn inquired with 
a trace of asperity. Though she was not prepared 


JESSY STRIKES 


279 

to pose as Vane’s advocate, she was conscious of a 
growing antagonism toward her companion. 

“ It’s difficult to explain, and I don’t know that the 
subject’s worth discussing,” answered Jessy. “ How¬ 
ever, what I think I meant was this — Mr. Vane’s of 
a type that’s not uncommon in the West, and it’s a type 
one finds interesting. He’s forcibly elementary, which 
is the only way I can express it; the restraints the rest 
of us submit to don’t bind him — he breaks through 
them.” 

This, Evelyn fancied, was more or less correct. In¬ 
deed, the man’s fearless disregard of hampering cus¬ 
toms had pleased her, but she recognized that some 
restraints are needful. Her companion followed the 
same train of thought. 

‘‘ When one breaks down or gets over fences, it’s 
necessary to discriminate,” she went on. “ Men of the 
Berserker type, however, are more addicted to going 
straight through the lot. In a way, they’re consistent 
— having smashed one barrier why should they respect 
the next ? ” 

Jessy, as she was quite aware, was playing a danger¬ 
ous game; one that might afterward be exposed. The 
latter possibility, however, was of less account, for de¬ 
tection would come too late if she were successful. 
She was acquainted with the salient points of Evelyn’s 
character. 

“ They’re consistent, if not always very logical,” she 
concluded after a pause. “ One endeavors to make 
allowances for men of that description.” 

Something in her tone roused Evelyn to sudden im¬ 
perious anger. It was intolerable that this woman 
should offer excuses for Vane. 


28 o vane of the timberlands 


“ What particular allowances do you feel it needful 
to make in Mr. Vane’s case? ” she asked haughtily. 

Now that she was faced by the direct question, Jessy 
hesitated. As a rule, she was subtle, but she could be 
ruthlessly frank, and she was possessed by a passionate 
hatred of the girl beside her. 

‘‘ You have forced me to an explanation,” she 
smiled. The fact is that while he has a room at the 
hotel he has an — establishment — in a different neigh¬ 
borhood. Unfortunately such places are a feature of 
some western towns.” 

It was a shock to Evelyn; one that she found hard 
to face; though she was not convinced. The last piece 
of information agreed with something Mrs. Nairn had 
told her; but, although she had on one occasion had the 
testimony of her eyes in support of it, Jessy’s first state¬ 
ment seemed incredible. 

It’s impossible! ” 

Jessy smiled in a bitter manner. 

It’s unpleasant, but it can’t be denied. He un¬ 
doubtedly pays the rent of a shack in the neighborhood 
I mentioned.” 

Evelyn sat tensely still for a moment or two. She 
dare not give rein to her feelings, for she would not 
betray herself; but composure was extremely difficult. 

‘‘If that is true,” she demanded, “ how is it that he 
is received everywhere — at your house and by Mrs. 
Nairn? He is coming here to-night.” 

Jessy shrugged her shoulders. 

“ People in general are more or less charitable in 
the case of a successful man. Apart from that, Mr. 
Vane has a good many excellent qualities. As I said, 
one has to make allowances.” 


JESSY STRIKES 


281 


Just then, to Evelyn’s relief, Mrs. Nairn came in, 
and though the girl suffered during the time, it was half 
an hour before she could find an excuse for slipping 
away alone. Then, sitting in the gathering darkness 
in her own room, she set herself to consider, as dis¬ 
passionately as possible, what she had heard. It was 
exceedingly difficult to believe the charge, but Jessy’s 
assertion was definite enough, and one which, if incor¬ 
rect, could readily be disproved. Nobody would say 
such a thing unless it could be substantiated; and that 
led Evelyn to consider why Jessy had given her the in¬ 
formation. She had obviously done so with at least 
a trace of malice, but it could hardly have sprung from 
jealousy; Evelyn could not think that a woman would 
vilify a man for whom she had any tenderness. Be¬ 
sides, she had seen Vane entering the part of the town 
indicated, where he could not have had any legitimate 
business. Hateful as the suspicion was, it could not 
be contemptuously dismissed. Then she recognized 
that she had no right to censure the man; he was not 
accountable to her for his conduct — but calm reason¬ 
ing carried her no farther. She was once more filled 
with intolerable disgust and burning indignation. 
Somehow, she had come to believe in Vane, and he had 
turned out an impostor. 

About an hour later Vane and Carroll entered the 
house with Nairn and proceeded to the latter’s room, 
where he offered them cigars. 

So ye’re all ready to sail the morn? ” 

Vane nodded and handed him a paper. 

‘‘ There’s your authority to act in my name, if it’s 
required. If we have moderately fine weather, I ex¬ 
pect to be back before there’s much change in the sit- 


282 VANE OF THE TIMBERLANDS 


uation; but I’ll call at Nanaimo, where you can wire 
me if anything turns up during the two or three days 
it may take us to get there. The wind’s ahead at 
present.” 

I suppose there’s no use in my saying anything 
more now; but I can’t help pointing out that as head 
of the concern you have a certain duty to the share¬ 
holders which you seem inclined to disregard,” Carroll 
remarked. 

Vane smiled. 

“ I’ve no doubt that their interests will be as safe in 
Nairn’s hands as in mine. What I stand to risk is the 
not getting my personal ideas carried out, which is a 
different matter, though I’ll own that it wouldn’t please 
me if they were overruled.” 

I fail to see why ye could no have let the whole 
thing stand over until the spring,” grunted Nairn. 

“ The spruce will no run away.” 

I’d have done so, had it been a few years earlier, 
but the whole country is overrun with mineral pros¬ 
pectors and timber righters now. Every month’s de¬ 
lay gives somebody else a chance for getting in ahead 
of me.” 

Weel,” responded Nairn resignedly, ‘‘ I can only , 
wish ye luck; but, should ye be detained up yonder, if 
one of ye could sail across to Comox to see if there’s 
any mail there it would be wise to do so.” He waved 
his hand. ‘‘No more of that; we’ll consider what 
tactics I had better adopt in case of delay.” 

An hour had passed before they went down to join 
the guests who were arriving for the evening meal. 
As a rule, the western business man, who is more or 
less engrossed in his occupation except when he is 


JESSY STRIKES 


283 

asleep, enjoys little privacy; and Nairn’s friends some- 
times compared his dwelling to the rotunda of a hotel. 
The point of this was that people of all descriptions 
who have nothing better to do are addicted to strolling 
into the combined bazaar and lounge which is attached 
to many Canadian hostelries. 

Vane was placed next to Evelyn at the table; but 
after a quiet reply to his first observation she turned 
and talked to the man at her other side. As the latter, 
who was elderly and dull, had only two topics — the 
most efficient means of desiccating fruit and the lack 
of railroad facilities — Vane was somewhat astonished 
that she appeared interested in his conversation, and 
by and by he tried again. He was not more successful 
this time, and his face grew warm as he realized that 
Evelyn was not inclined to talk to him. Being a very 
ordinary mortal and not particularly patient, he was 
sensible of some indignation, which was not diminished 
when, on looking around, Jessy Horsfield favored him 
with a compassionate smile. However, he took his 
part in the general conversation; and the meal was over 
and the guests were scattered about the adjoining 
rooms when, after impatiently waiting for the oppor¬ 
tunity, he at last found Evelyn alone. She was 
standing with one hand on a table, looking rather 
thoughtful. 

‘‘ Eve come to ask what I’ve done ? ” 

Evelyn was not prepared for this blunt directness 
and she felt a little disconcerted, but she broke into a 
chilly smile. 

The question’s rather indefinite, isn’t it? Do you 
expect me to be acquainted with all your recent ac¬ 
tions ? ” 


284 VANE OF THE TIMBERLANDS 

Then I’ll put the thing in another way — do you 
mind telling me how I have offended you ? ” 

The girl almost wished that she could do so. Ap¬ 
pearances were badly against him, but she felt that if 
he declared himself innocent she could take his word 
in the face of overwhelming testimony to the con¬ 
trary. Unfortunately, however, it was unthinkable 
that she should plainly state the charge. 

Do you suppose I should feel warranted in form¬ 
ing any opinion upon your conduct ? ” she retorted. 

“ It strikes me that you have formed one, and it isn’t 
favorable.” 

The girl hesitated a moment, but she had the cour¬ 
age of her convictions and she felt impelled to make 
some protest. 

‘‘ That,” she said, looking him in the eyes, ‘‘ is per¬ 
fectly true.” 

He seemed more puzzled than guilty, and once more 
she chafed against the fact that she could give him 
no opportunity for defending himself. 

Well,” he responded, I’m sorry; but it brings us 
back to my first question.” 

The situation was becoming painful as well as em¬ 
barrassing, and Evelyn, perhaps unreasonably, grew 
more angry with the man. 

“ I’m afraid that you either are clever at dissembling 
or have no imagination.” 

Vane held himself in hand with an effort. 

I dare say you’re right on the latter point. It’s 
a fact I’m sometimes thankful for. It leaves one more 
free to go straight ahead. Now, as I see the dried-fruit 
man coming in search of you and you evidently don’t 
mean to answer me, I can’t urge the matter.” 


JESSY STRIKES 


Me turned away and left her wondering why he 
had abandoned his usual persistency, unless it was that 
an uneasy conscience had driven him from the field. 
It did not occur to her that the man had under strong 
provocation merely yielded to the prompting of a some¬ 
what hasty temper. In the meanwhile he crossed the 
room in an absent-minded manner and presently found 
himself near Jessy, who made room for him at her 
side. 

“ It looks as if you were in disgrace to-night,’’ she 
said sweetly, and waited with concealed impatience for 
his answer. If Evelyn had been sufficiently clever or 
bold to give him a hint as to what he was suspected of, 
Jessy foresaw undesirable complications. 

‘‘ I think I am,” he owned without reflection. The 
trouble is that, while I may deserve it on general 
grounds. I’m unconscious of having done anything 
very reprehensible in particular.” 

Jessy was sensible of considerable relief. The man 
was sore and resentful; he would not press Evelyn for 
an explanation, and the breach would widen. In the 
meanwhile she must play her cards skillfully. 

“ Then that fact should sustain you,” she smiled. 
‘‘ We shall miss you after to-morrow — more than 
one of us. Of course, it’s too late to tell you that you 
are not altogether wise in resolving to go.” 

Everybody has been telling me the same thing for 
the last few weeks,” he laughed. 

‘‘ Then I’ll only wish you every success. It’s a pity 
that Bendle and the other man haven’t paid up yet.” 

She met his surprised look with an engaging smile. 

“ You needn’t be astonished. There’s not very 
much goes on in the city that I don’t hear about — 


286 VANE OF THE TIMBERLANDS 


you know how men talk business here, and it’s inter¬ 
esting to look on, even when one can’t actually take a 
hand in the game. It’s said that the watchers some¬ 
times see the most of it.” 

“ To tell the truth, it’s the uncertainty as to what 
those two men might do that has chiefly been worry¬ 
ing me.” 

‘‘Of course. I believe that I understand the posi¬ 
tion— they’ve been hanging fire, haven’t they? But 
I’ve reasons for believing they’ll come to a decision 
before very long.” 

Vane looked troubled. 

“ That’s interesting, but I ought to warn you that 
your brother —” 

Jessy stopped him with a smile. 

“ I’ve no intention of giving him away; and, as a 
matter of fact, I think you are a little prejudiced 
against him. After all, he’s not your greatest dan¬ 
ger. There’s a cabal against you among your share¬ 
holders.” 

The man knit his brows, but she knew by the way 
he looked at her that he admired her acumen. 

“ Yes,” he responded; “ I’ve suspected that.” 

“ There are two courses open to you — the first is 
to put off your expedition.” 

The answer was to the effect she had anticipated. 

“ That’s impossible, for several reasons.” 

“ The other is to call at Nanaimo and wait until, 
we’ll say, next Thursday. If there’s need for you to 
come back I think it will arise by then; but it might 
be better if you called at Comox too — after you 
leave the latter you’ll be unreachable. If it seems 


JESSY STRIKES 287 

necessary, Til send you a warning; if you hear noth¬ 
ing, you can go on” 

Vane reflected hastily. Jessy, as she had told him, 
had opportunities for picking up valuable information 
about the business done in that city, and he had con¬ 
fidence in her. 

“ Thank you,” he said. ‘‘ It will be the second 
service you have done me, and I appreciate it. Any¬ 
way, I promised Nairn Fd call at Nanaimo, in case 
there should be a wire from him.” 

It’s a bargain; and now we’ll talk of something 
else.” 

Jessy drew him into an exchange of badinage. 
Noticing, however, that Evelyn once or twice glanced 
at her with some astonishment, she presently got rid 
of him. She could understand Evelyn’s attitude and 
she did not wish her friendliness with the offender to 
appear unnatural after what she had said about him. 

At length the guests began to leave, and most of 
them had gone when Vane rose to take his departure. 
His host and hostess went with him to the door, but, 
though he once or twice glanced round eagerly, there 
was no sign of Evelyn. He lingered a few moments 
on the threshold after Mrs. Nairn had given him a 
kindly send-off; but nobody appeared in the lighted 
hall, and after another word with Nairn he went 
moodily down the steps to join Jessy and Carroll, who 
were waiting for him below. As the group walked 
down the garden path, Mrs. Nairn looked at her hus¬ 
band. 

“ I do no know what has come over Evelyn this 
night,” she remarked. 


288 VANE OF THE TIMBERLANDS 


Nairn followed Jessy’s retreating figure with dis¬ 
trustful eyes. 

‘‘ Weel,” he drawled, “ I’m thinking yon besom may 
have had a hand in the thing.” 

A few minutes later Jessy, standing where the light 
of a big lamp streamed down upon her through the 
boughs of a leafless maple, bade Vane farewell at her 
brother’s gate. 

‘‘If my good wishes can bring you success, it will 
most certainly be yours,” she said, and there was some¬ 
thing in her voice which faintly stirred the man, who 
was feeling very sore. 

“ Thank you.” 

She did not immediately withdraw the hand she 
had given him. He was grateful to her and thought 
she looked unusually pretty with the sympathy shining 
in her eyes. 

“ You will not forget to wait at Nanaimo and 
Comox ? ” she reminded him. 

“No. If you recall me. I’ll come back at once; if 
not. I’ll go on with a lighter heart, knowing that I can 
safely stay away.” 

Jessy said nothing further, and he moved on. She 
felt that she had scored and she knew when to stop. 
The man had given her his full confidence. 

Soon afterward Vane entered his hotel, where he 
turned impatiently upon Carroll. 

“ You can go into the rotunda or the smoking-room 
and talk to any loafer who thinks it worth while to 
listen to your cryptic remarks,” he said. “ As we sail 
as soon as it’s daylight to-morrow, I’m going to sleep.” 


CHAPTER XXV 


THE INTERCEPTED LETTER 

^ I ^HE wind was fresh from the northwest when 
Vane drove the sloop out through the Narrows 
in the early dawn and saw a dim stretch of white- 
flecked sea in front of him. Land-locked as they are 
by Vancouver Island, the long roll of the Pacific can¬ 
not enter those waters, but they are now and then 
lashed into short, tumbling seas, sufficient to make 
passage difficult for a craft no larger than the sloop. 
Carroll frowned when a comber smote the weather 
bow and a shower of stinging spray lashed his face. 

“ Right ahead again,’’ he remarked. “ But as I 
suppose you’re going on, we’d better stretch straight 
across on the starboard tack. We’ll get smoother 
water along the island shore.” 

They let her go and Vane sat at the helm hour after 
hour, drenched with spray, hammering her mercilessly 
into the frothy seas. They could have done with a 
second reef down, for the deck was swept and sluic¬ 
ing, and most of the time the lee rail was buried deep 
in rushing foam; but Vane showed no intention of 
shortening sail. Nor did Carroll, who saw that his 
comrade was disturbed in temper, suggest it; resolute 
action had, he knew, a soothing effect on Vane. As 
a matter of fact. Vane needed soothing. Of late, he 
had felt that he was making steady progress in Ev- 
289 


290 VANE OF THE TIMBERLANDS 

elyn’s favor, and now she had most inexplainably 
turned against him. There was no doubt that, as Jessy 
had described it, he was in disgrace; but rack his 
brain as he would, he could not discover the reason. 
That he was conscious of no offense only made the 
position more galling. 

In the meanwhile, the boat engrossed more and 
more of his attention, and though he was by no means 
careful of her, he spared no effort to get her to wind¬ 
ward. It was a relief to drive her hard at some white- 
topped sea and watch her bows disappear in it with 
a thud, while it somehow eased his mind to see the 
smashed-up brine fly half the height of her drenched 
mainsail. There was also satisfaction in feeling the 
strain on the tiller when, swayed down by a fiercer 
gust, she plunged through the combers with the froth 
swirling, perilously close to the coaming, along her 
half-submerged deck. In all their moods, men of his 
kind find pleasure in such things; the turmoil, the 
rush, the need for quick, resolute action stirs the 
blood in them. 

The day was cold; the man, who was compelled to 
sit almost still in a nipping wind, was soon wet through; 
but this in some curious way further tended to restore 
his accustomed optimism and good-humor. He had 
partly recovered both when, as the sloop drove through 
the whiter turmoil whipped up by a vicious squall, 
there was a crash forward. 

“ Down helm! ” shouted Carroll. ‘‘ The bobstay’s 
gone! ” 

He scrambled toward the bowsprit, which having 
lost its principal support swayed upward, in peril of 
being torn away by the sagging, jib. Vane first 


THE INTERCEPTED LETTER 291 

rounded up the boat into the wind and then followed 
him; and for several minutes they had a savage strug¬ 
gle with the madly-flapping sail before they flung it, 
bundled up, into the well. Then they ran in the bow¬ 
sprit, and Vane felt glad that, although the craft had 
been rigged in the usual western fashion as a sloop, 
he had changed that by giving her a couple of head- 
sails in place of one. 

‘‘ Shefll trim with the staysail if we haul down an¬ 
other reef,” he suggested. 

It cost them some labor, but they were warmer 
afterward, and when they drove on again Vane glanced 
at the bowsprit. 

We’ll try to get a bit of galvanized steel in Nan¬ 
aimo,” he said. “ I can’t risk another smash.” 

Carroll laughed. 

You’d better be prepared for one, if you mean to 
drive her as you have been doing.” He flung back 
the saloon scuttle. ‘‘ You’d have swamped her in an¬ 
other hour or two — the cabin floorings are all awash.” 

‘‘ Then hadn’t you better pump her out ? ” retorted 
Vane. After that, you can light the stove. It’s 
beginning to dawn on me that it’s a long while since 
I had anything worth speaking of to eat. The kind 
of lunch you brought along in the basket isn’t sustain- 
ing/’ 

They made a bountiful if somewhat primitive meal, 
in turn, sitting in the dripping saloon which was partly 
filled with smoke, and Carroll sighed for the comforts 
he had abandoned. He did not, however, mention 
his regrets, because he did not expect his comrade’s 
sympathy. Vane seldom noticed what he was eating 
when he was on board his boat. 


292 VANE OF THE TIMBERLANDS 

The craft, being under reduced sail, drove along 
more easily during the rest of the afternoon, and they 
ran into a little colliery town late on the following 
day. There Vane replaced the broken bobstay with 
a solid piece of steel, and then sat down to write a 
letter while Carroll stretched his cramped limbs 
ashore. 

The letter was addressed to Evelyn, and he found 
it difficult to express himself as he desired. The 
spoken word, as he had discovered, is now and then 
awkward to use, but the written one is more evasive 
and complex still, and he shook his head ruefully over 
the production when he laid down his pen. This was, 
perhaps, unnecessary, for having grown calm he had 
framed a terse and forcible appeal to the girl’s sense 
of justice, which would in all probability have had its 
effect on her had she received it. Though he hardly 
realized it, the few simple words were convincing. 

Having had no news from Nairn or Jessy, they 
sailed again in a day or two, bound for Comox farther 
along the coast, where there was a possibility of com¬ 
munications overtaking them; but in the meanwhile 
matters which concerned them were moving forward 
in Vancouver. 

It was rather early one afternoon when Jessy called 
on one of her friends and found her alone. Mrs. 
Bendle was a young and impulsive woman from one 
of the eastern cities and she had not made many 
friends in Vancouver yet, though her husband, whom 
she had lately married, was a man of some importance 
there. 

I’m glad to see you,” she said, greeting Jessy 
eagerly. It’s a week since anybody has been in to 


THE INTERCEPTED LETTER 293 

talk to me, and Tom’s away again. It’s a trying thing 
to be the wife of a western business man — you so 
seldom see him.” 

Jessy made herself comfortable in an easy-chair be¬ 
fore she referred to one of her companion’s remarks. 

‘‘ Where has Mr. Bendle gone now ? ” she asked. 

‘‘ Into the bush to look at a mine. He left this 
morning and it will be a week before he’s back. Then 
he’s going across the Selkirks with that Clavering man 
about some irrigation scheme.” 

This suggested one or two questions which Jessy 
desired to ask, but she did not frame them immedi¬ 
ately. Mrs. Bendle was incautious and discursive, but 
there was nothing to be gained by being precipitate. 

“ It must be dull for you,” she sympathized. 

I don’t mean to complain. Tom’s reasonable; the 
last time I said anything about being left alone he 
bought me a pair of ponies. He said I could have 
either them or an automobile, and I took the ponies. 
I thought them safer.” 

Jessy smiled. 

“ You’re fortunate in several ways; there are not 
a great many people who can make such presents. 
But while everybody knows your husband has been 
successful lately. I’m a little surprised that he’s able to 
go into Glavering’s irrigation scheme. It’s a very 
expensive one, and I understand that they intend to 
confine it to a few, which means that those interested 
will have to subscribe handsomely.” 

Tom,” explained her companion, ‘‘ likes to have 
a number of different things in hand. He told me it 
was wiser, when I said that I couldn’t tell my friends 
back East what he really is, because he seemed to be 


294 VANE OF THE TIMBERLANDS 

everything at once. But your brother’s interested in 
a good many things, too, isn’t he ? ” 

“ I believe so,” answered Jessy. “ Still, I’m pretty 
sure he couldn’t afford to join Clavering and at the 
same time take up a big block of shares in Mr. Vane’s 
mine.” 

“ But Tom isn’t going to do the latter now.” 

Jessy was startled. This was valuable information 
which she could scarcely have expected to obtain so 
easily. There was more that she desired to ascertain, 
but she had no intention of making any obvious in¬ 
quiries. , 

It’s generally understood that Mr. Vane and your 
husband are on good terms,” she said. “ You know 
him, don’t you ? ” 

‘‘ I’ve met him once or twice, and I like him, but 
when I mention him Tom smiles. He says it’s un¬ 
fortunate Mr. Vane can see only one thing at a time, 
and that the one which lies right in front of his eyes. 
For all that, he once owned that the man is likable.” 

Then it’s a pity he’s unable to stand by him now.” 

Mrs. Bendle looked thoughtful. 

“ I really believe Tom’s half sorry he can’t do so. 
He said something last night that suggested it — I 
can’t remember exactly what it was. Of course, I 
don’t understand much about these matters, but How- 
itson was here talking business until late.” 

Jessy was satisfied. Her hostess’s previous incau¬ 
tious admission had gone a long way, but to this was 
added the significant information that Bendle was in¬ 
clined to be sorry for Vane. The fact that he and 
Howitson had decided on some joint action after a 
long private discussion implied that there was trouble 


THE INTERCEPTED LETTER 295 

in store for the absent man, unless he could be sum¬ 
moned to deal with the crisis in person. Jessy won¬ 
dered whether Nairn knew anything about the matter 
yet, and decided that she would call and try to sound 
him. This would be difficult, because Nairn was not 
the man to make any rash avowal, and he had an an¬ 
noying habit of parrying an injudicious question with 
an enigmatical smile. In the meanwhile she led her 
companion away from the subject and they discussed 
millinery and such matters until she took her de¬ 
parture. 

It was early in the evening when she reached Nairn’s 
house, for she thought it better to arrive there a little 
before he came home. She was told that Mrs. Nairn 
and Miss Chisholm were out but were expected back 
shortly. Evelyn had been by no means cordial to 
her since their last interview, and Mrs. Nairn’s man¬ 
ner had been colder; but Jessy decided to wait; and 
for the second time that day fortune seemed to play 
into her hands. 

It was dark outside, but the entrance hall was 
brightly lighted and Jessy could see into it from where 
she sat. Highly trained domestics are generally scarce 
in the West, and the maid had left the door of the 
room open. Presently there was a knock at the outer 
door and a young lad came in with some letters in his 
hand. He explained to the maid that he had been to 
the post-office and had brought his employer’s private 
mail. The maid pointed out that the top letter looked 
dirty, and the lad owned that he had dropped the 
bundle in the street. Then he withdrew and the maid 
laid the letters carelessly on a little table and also 
retired, banging a door behind her. The concussion 


296 VANE OF THE TIMBERLANDS 

shook down the letters, and one, fluttering forward 
with the sudden draught, fell almost upon the thresh¬ 
old of the room. Jessy, who was methodical in most 
things, rose to pick it up and replace it with the rest. 

When she reached the door, however, she stopped 
abruptly, for she recognized the rather large writing 
on the envelope. There was no doubt that it was from 
Vane and she noticed that it was addressed to Miss 
Chisholm. Jessy picked it up, and when she had laid 
the others on the table, she stood with Vane’s letter 
in her hand. 

‘‘ Has the man no pride? ” she said half aloud. 

Then she looked about her, listening, greatly 
tempted, and considering. There was no sound in the 
house; Evelyn and Mrs. Nairn were out, and the other 
occupants were cut off from her by a closed door. 
Nobody would know that she had entered the hall, 
and if the letter were subsequently missed it would be 
remembered that the lad had confessed to dropping 
the bundle. It was most unlikely, however, that any 
question regarding its disappearance would ever be 
asked. If there should be no response from Evelyn, 
Vane, she thought, would not renew his appeal. 
Jessy had no doubt that the letter contained an appeal 
of some kind which might lead to a reconciliation, and 
she knew that silence is often more potent than an 
outbreak of anger. She had only to destroy the let¬ 
ter, and the breach between the two people whom she 
desired to separate would widen automatically. 

There was little risk of detection, but, standing 
tensely still, with set lips and heart beating faster than 
usual, she shrank from the decisive action. She could 
still replace the letter and look for other means of 


THE INTERCEPTED LETTER 297 

bringing about what she wished. She was self-willed 
and endowed with few troublesome principles, but 
until she had poisoned Evelyn’s mind against Vane 
she had never done anything flagrantly dishonorable. 
Then while she waited, irresolute, a fresh temptation 
seized her in the shape of a burning desire to learn 
what the man had to say. He would reveal his feel¬ 
ings in the message and she could judge the strength 
of her rival’s influence over him. Jessy had her ideas 
on this point, but she could now see them confirmed 
or refuted by the man’s own words. 

Yet she hesitated, with a half-instinctive recogni¬ 
tion of the fact that the decision she must make was 
an eventful one. She had transgressed grievously in 
one recent interview with Evelyn, but, while she had 
no idea of making reparation, she could at least stop 
short of a second offense. She had, perhaps, not gone 
too far yet, but if she ventured a little farther she 
might be driven on against her will and become in¬ 
extricably involved in an entanglement of dishonor¬ 
able treachery. 

The issue hung in the balance — the slightest thing 
would have turned the scale — when she heard foot¬ 
steps outside and the tinkle of a bell. Moving with 
a start, she slipped back into the room just before the 
maid opened the adjacent door. In another moment 
she thrust the envelope inside her dress, and gathered 
her composure as Mrs. Nairn and Evelyn entered the 
hall. The former approached the table and turned 
over the handful of letters. 

“ Two for ye from England, Evelyn, and one or 
two for me,” she said, flashing a quick glance at the 
girl. Nothing else; I had thought Vane would 


298 VANE OF THE TIMBERLANDS 

maybe send a bit note from one of the island ports 
to say how he was getting on” 

Then Jessy rose, smiling, to greet her hostess. The 
question was decided — it was too late to replace the 
letter now. She could not remember what they talked 
about during the next half-hour, but she took her 
part, until Nairn came in, and she contrived to have 
a word with him before leaving. Mrs. Nairn had 
gone out to give some instructions about supper, and 
when Evelyn followed her, Jessy turned to Nairn. 

“ Mr. Vane should be at Comox now,” she began. 
‘‘ Have you any idea of recalling him? Of course, I 
know a little about the Clermont affairs.” 

Nairn glanced at her with thoughtful eyes. 

‘‘ Tm no acquainted with any reason that would 
render such a course necessary.” 

Evelyn reappeared shortly after this, and Jessy ex¬ 
cused herself from staying for the evening meal and 
walked home thinking hard. It was needful that 
Vane should be recalled. He had written to Evelyn, 
but Jessy still meant to send him word. He would 
be grateful to her, and, indignant and wounded as she 
was, she would not own herself beaten. She would 
warn the man, and afterward perhaps allow Nairn 
to send him a second message. 

On reaching her brother’s house, she went straight 
to her own room and tore open the envelope. The 
color receded from her face as she read, and sinking 
into a chair she sat still with hands clenched. The 
message was terse, but it was stirringly candid; and 
even where the man did not fully reveal his feelings 
in his words she could read between the lines. There 
was no doubt that he had given his heart unreservedly 


THE INTERCEPTED LETTER 299 

into her rival’s keeping. He might be separated 
from her, but Jessy knew enough of him to realize, 
at last that he would not turn to another. The lurid 
truth was burned upon her brain — she might do 
what she would, but this man was not for her. 

For a while she sat still, and then stooping swiftly 
she seized the letter, which she had dropped, and rent 
it into fragments. Her eyes had grown hard and 
cruel; love of the only kind that she was capable of 
had suddenly turned to hate. What was more, it 
was a hate that could be gratified. 

A little later Horsfield came in. Jessy was very 
composed now, but she noticed that her brother looked 
at her in a rather unusual manner once or twice dur¬ 
ing the meal that followed. 

“ You make me feel that you have something on 
your mind,” she observed at length. 

‘‘ That’s a fact.” 

Horsfield hesitated. He was attached to and rather 
proud of his sister. 

‘"Well?” she prompted. 

He leaned forward confidentially. 

See here,” he said, “ I’ve always imagined that 
you would go far, and I’m anxious to see you do so. 
I shouldn’t like you to throw yourself away.” 

His sister could take a hint, but there was infor¬ 
mation that she desired and the man was speaking 
with unusual reserve. 

‘‘ You must be plainer,” she retorted with a slight 
show of impatience. 

Then, you have seen a good deal of Vane, and 
in case you have any hankering after his scalp, I 
think I’d better mention that there’s reason to be- 


300 VANE OF THE TIMBERLANDS 

lieve he won’t be worth powder and shot before very 
long.” 

“Ah!” exclaimed Jessy with a calmness that was 
' difficult to assume; “ you may as well understand 
that there is nothing between Vane and me. I suppose 
you mean that Howitson and Bendle are turning 
against him ? ” 

“ Something like that.” Horsfield’s tone implied 
that her answer had afforded him relief. “ The man 
has trouble in front of him.” 

Jessy changed the subject. What she had gathered 
from Mrs. Bendle was fully confirmed; but she had 
made up her mind. Evelyn’s lover might wait for the 
warning which could save him, but he should wait in 
vain. 


CHAPTER XXVI 


ON THE TRAIL 

TT was a long, wet sail up the coast with the wind 
^ ahead, and Carroll was quite content when, on 
reaching Comox, Vane announced his intention of 
stopping there until the mail came in. Immediately 
after its arrival, Carroll went ashore, and came back 
empty-handed. 

“ Nothing,’’ he reported. “ Personally, I’m pleased. 
Nairn could have advised us here if there had been 
any striking developments since we left the last place.” 

“ I wasn’t expecting to hear from him,” Vane re¬ 
plied tersely. 

Carroll read keen disappointment in his face, and 
was not surprised, although the absence of any mes¬ 
sage meant that it was safe for them to go on with 
their project and that should have afforded his com¬ 
panion satisfaction. The latter sat on deck, gazing 
somewhat moodily across the ruffled water toward 
the snow-clad heights of the mainland range. They 
towered, dimly white and majestic, above a scarcely- 
trodden wilderness, and Carroll, at least, was not 
pleasantly impressed by the spectacle. Though not 
to be expected always, the cold snaps are now and 
then severe in those wilds. Indeed, at odd times a 
frost almost as rigorous as that of Alaska lays its icy 
301 


302 VANE OF THE TIMBERLANDS 

grip upon the mountains and the usually damp for¬ 
ests at their feet. 

‘‘ I wish I could have got a man to go with us, 
but between the coal development and the logging, 
everybody’s busy,” he remarked. 

'' It doesn’t matter,” Vane assured him. “ If we 
took a man along and came back unsuccessful, there’d 
be a risk of his giving the thing away. Besides, he 
might make trouble in other respects. A hired packer 
would probably kick against what you and I may have 
to put up with.” 

Carroll was far from pleased with this hint, but he 
let it pass. 

‘‘ Do you mean that if you don’t find the spruce 
this time, you’ll go back again ? ” 

“Yes; that’s my intention. And now we may as 
well get the mainsail on her.” 

They got off shortly afterward and stood out to 
northward with the wind still ahead of them. It 
was a lowering day, and a short, tumbling sea was 
running. When late in the afternoon Carroll fixed 
their position by the bearing of a peak on the island, 
he pointed out the small progress they had made. 
The sloop was then plunging close-hauled through the 
vicious slate-green combers, and thin showers of spray 
flew all over her. 

“ The luck’s been dead against us ever since we 
began this search,” he commented. 

“ Do you believe in that kind of foolishness? ” Vane 
inquired. 

Carroll, sitting on the coaming, considered the ques¬ 
tion. It was not one of much importance, but the 
dingy sky and the dreary waste of sad-colored water 


ON THE TRAIL 


303 


nad a depressing effect on him, and as it was a solace 
to talk, one topic would serve as well as another. 

“ I think I believe in a rhythmical recurrence of the 
contrary chance,” he answered. I mean that the 
uncertain and adverse possibility often turns up in 
succession for a time.” 

“ Then you couldn’t call it uncertain.” 

“ You can’t tell exactly when the break will come,” 
Carroll explained. “ But if I were a gambler or had 
other big risks, I think I’d allow for dangers in 
triplets.” 

“ Yes,” Vane responded; you could cite the three 
extra big head seas, and I’ve noticed that when one 
burned tree comes down in a brulee, it’s quite often 
followed by two more, though there may be a number 
just ready to fall.” 

He mused for a few moments, with the spray 
whistling about him. He had three things at stake: 
Evelyn’s favor; his interest in the Clermont Mine; 
and the timber he expected to find. Two of them 
were undoubtedly threatened, and he wondered 
gloomily if he might be bereft of all. Then he drove 
the forebodings out of his mind. 

‘‘ In the present case, anyway, our course is pretty 
simple,” he declared with a laugh. “ We have only to 
hold out and go on until the luck changes.” 

Carroll knew that Vane was capable of doing as 
he had suggested and he was not encouraged by the 
prospect; but he went below to trim and bring up 
the lights, and soon afterward retired to get what 
rest he could. The locker cushions on which he lay 
felt unpleasantly damp; his blankets, which were not 
much drier, smelt moldy; and there was a dismal splash 


304 VANE OF THE TIMBERLANDS 

and gurgle of water among the timbers of the plung¬ 
ing craft. Now and then a jet of it shot up between 
the joints of the flooring or spouted through the open¬ 
ing made for the lifting-gear in the centerboard trunk. 
When he had several times failed to plug the opening 
with a rag, Carroll gave it up and shortly afterward 
fell into fltful slumber. 

He was awakened, shivering, by hearing Vane call¬ 
ing him, and scrambling out into the well, he took the 
helm as his comrade left it. 

‘‘ What’s her course ? ” he inquired. 

“If you can keep her hammering ahead close-hauled 
on the port tack, it’s all I ask,” Vane laughed. “ You 
needn’t call me unless the sea gets steeper.” 

He crawled below; and it was a few minutes before 
Carroll, who was dazzled by the change from the 
dim lamplight, felt himself fit for his task. Fine spray 
whirled about him. It was pitch dark, but by de¬ 
grees he made out the shadowy seas which came 
charging up, tipped with frothing white, upon the 
weather bow. By the way they broke on board it 
struck him that they were steep enough already, but 
Vane had seen them not long ago and there was 
nothing to be gained by expostulation if they caused 
him no anxiety. Several hours went by, and then 
Carroll noticed that the faint crimson blink which 
sometimes fell upon the seas to weather was no longer 
visible. It was evident that the port light had either 
gone out or been washed out, and it was his manifest 
duty to relight it. On the other hand, he could not 
do so unless Vane took the helm. He was wet and 
chilled through; any fresh effort was distasteful; he did 
not want to move; and he decided that they were most 


ON THE TRAIL 


30s 

unlikely to meet a steamer, while it was certain that 
there would be no other yacht about. He left the 
lamp alone, and at length Vane came up. 

What’s become of the port light? ” he demanded. 

** That’s more than I can tell you. It was burn¬ 
ing an hour ago.” 

“An hour ago!” Vane broke out with disgusted 
indignation. 

“ It may have been a little longer. They’ve stopped 
the Alaska steamboats now, but of course there’s no 
reason why you shouldn’t light that lamp again, if 
it would give you any satisfaction. I’ll stay up un¬ 
til you’re through with it.” 

Vane did as he suggested, and immediately after¬ 
ward Carroll retired below. He slept until a pale 
ray of sunshine crept in through the skylights, and 
then crawling out found the sloop lurching very 
slowly over a dying swell, with her deck and shaking 
mainsail white with frost. The wind had fallen al¬ 
most dead away, and it was very cold. 

“ On the whole,” he complained, “ this is worse 
than the other thing.” 

Vane merely told him to get breakfast; and most of 
that day and the next one they drifted with the tides 
through narrowing waters, though now and then for 
a few hours they were wafted on by light and fickle 
winds. At length, they crept into the inlet where they 
had landed on the previous voyage, and on the morn¬ 
ing after their arrival they set out on the march. 
There was on this occasion reason to expect more 
rigorous weather, and the load each carried was an 
almost crushing one. Where the trees were thinner 
the ground was frozen hard, and even in the densest 


3 o6 vane of the TIMBERLANDS 

bush the undergrowth was white and stiff with frost, 
while overhead a forbidding gray sky hung. 

On approaching the rift in the hillside at which he 
had glanced when they first passed that way, Vane 
stopped a moment. 

I looked into that place before, but it didn’t seem 
worth while to follow it up,” he said. “ If you’ll 
wait. I’ll go a little farther along it.” 

Though the air was nipping, Carroll was content 
to remain where he was, and he spent some time sit¬ 
ing upon a log before a faint shout reached him. 
Then he rose and, making his way up the hollow, found 
his comrade standing upon a jutting ledge. 

‘‘ I thought you were never coming! Climb up; 
I’ve something to show you! ” 

Carroll joined him with difficulty, and Vane 
stretched out his hand. 

“ Look yonder! ” 

Carroll looked and started. They stood in a rocky 
gateway with a river brawling down the chasm be¬ 
neath them, but a valley opened up in front. Filled 
with somber forest, it ran back almost straight be¬ 
tween stupendous walls of hills. 

“ It answers Hartley’s description. After all, I 
don’t think it’s extraordinary that we should have 
taken so much trouble to push on past the right place.” 

‘‘ Why?” 

Carroll sat down and filled his pipe. 

‘‘ It’s the natural result of possessing a temper¬ 
ament like yours. Somehow, you’ve got it firmly 
fixed into your mind that everything worth doing must 
be hard.” 

I’ve generally found it so.” 


ON THE TRAIL 


307 


“ I think,” grinned Carroll, you’ve generally made 
it so. There’s a marked difference between the two. 
If any means of doing a thing looks easy, you at once 
conclude that it can’t be the right one. That mode 
of reasoning has never appealed to me. In my opin¬ 
ion, it’s more sensible to try the easiest method first.” 

“ As a rule, that leads to your having to fall back 
upon the other one; and a frontal attack on a dif¬ 
ficulty’s often quicker than considering how you can 
work round its flank. In this case. I’ll own we have 
wasted a lot of time and taken a good deal of trouble 
that might have been avoided. But are you going to 
sit here and smoke ? ” 

“ Until I’ve finished my pipe,” Carroll answered 
firmly. ‘‘ I expect we’ll find tobacco, among other 
things, getting pretty scarce before this expedition 
ends.” 

He carried out his intention, and they afterward 
pushed on up the valley during the remainder of the 
day. It grew more level as they proceeded, and in 
spite of the frost, which bound the feeding snows, 
there was a steady flow of water down the river, which 
was free from rocky barriers. Vane now and then 
glanced at the river attentively, and when dusk was 
drawing near he stopped and fixed his gaze on the 
long ranks of trees that stretched away in front of 
him; fretted spires of somber greenery lifted high 
above a colonnade of mighty trunks. 

“ Does anything in connection with this bush strike 
you ? ” he asked. 

Its stiffness, if that’s what you mean,” Carroll 
answered with a smile. ‘‘ These big conifers look 
as if they’d been carved, like the wooden trees in the 


3 o8 vane of the TIMBERLANDS 

Swiss or German toys. They’re impressive in a way, 
but they’re too formally artificial.” 

That’s not what I mean,” Vane said impatiently. 

‘‘To tell the truth, I didn’t suppose it was. Any¬ 
way, these trees aren’t spruce. They’re red cedar; 
the stuff they make roofing shingles of.” 

“ Precisely. Just now, shingles are in good de¬ 
mand in the Province, and with the wooden towns 
springing up on the prairie, western millers can 
hardly send roofing material across the Rockies fast 
enough. Besides this, I haven’t struck a creek more 
adapted for running down logs, and the last sharp drop 
to tide-water would give power for a mill. I’m only 
puzzled that none of the timber-lease prospectors have 
recorded the place.” 

“ That’s easy to understand,” laughed Carroll. 
“ Like you, they’d no doubt first search the most dif¬ 
ficult spots to get at.” 

They went on, and when darkness fell they pitched 
their light tent beside the creek. It was now freezing 
hard, and after supper the men lay smoking, wrapped 
in blankets, with the tent between them and the sting¬ 
ing wind, while a great fire of cedar branches snapped 
and roared in front of them. Sometimes the red 
blaze shot up, flinging a lurid light on the stately 
trunks and tinging the men’s faces with the hue of 
burnished copper; sometimes it fanned out away from 
them while the sparks drove along the frozen ground 
and the great forest aisle, growing dim, was filled with 
drifting vapor. The latter was aromatic; pungently 
fragrant. 

“ It struck me that you were disappointed when 
you got no mail at Comox,” Carroll remarked at 


ON THE TRAIL 309 

length, feeling that he was making something of a 
venture. 

‘‘ I was,” admitted Vane. 

‘‘ That’s strange,” Carroll persisted, because your 
hearing nothing from Nairn left you free to go ahead, 
which, one would suppose, was what you wanted.” 

Vane happened to be in a confidential mood; though 
usually averse to sharing his troubles, he felt that he 
needed sympathy. 

‘‘ I’d better confess that I wrote Miss Chisholm a 
few lines from Nanaimo.” 

“And she didn’t answer you? Now, I couldn’t 
well help noticing that you were rather in her bad 
graces that night at Nairn’s — the thing was pretty 
obvious. No doubt you’re acquainted with the 
reason ? ” 

“ I’m not. That’s just the trouble.” 

Carroll reflected. He had an idea that Miss Hors- 
field was somehow connected with the matter, but this 
was a suspicion he could not mention. 

“ Well,” he said, “ as I pointed out, you’re addicted 
to taking the hardest way. When we came up here 
before, you marched past this valley, chiefly because 
it was close at hand; but I don’t want to dwell on that. 
Has it occurred to you that you did something of 
the same kind when you were at the Dene ? The way 
that was then offered you was easy.” 

Vane frowned. 

“ That is not the kind of subject one cares to talk 
about; but you ought to know that I couldn’t allow 
them to force Miss Chisholm upon me against her 
will. It was unthinkable! Besides, looking at it in 
the most cold-blooded manner, it would have been 


310 VANE OF THE TIMBERLANDS 

foolishness, for which we’d both have had to pay after¬ 
ward.” 

“ I’m not so sure of that,” Carroll smiled. There 
were the Sabine women, among other instances. 
Didn’t they cut off their hair to make bowstring for 
their abductors ? ” 

His companion made no comment, and Carroll, de¬ 
ciding that he had ventured as far as was prudent, 
talked of something else until they crept into the little 
tent and soon fell asleep. 

They started with the first of the daylight, but the 
timber grew denser and more choked with underbrush 
as they proceeded and for a day or two they wearily 
struggled through it and the clogging masses of tan¬ 
gled, withered fern. Besides this, they were forced to 
clamber over mazes of fallen trunks, when the ragged 
ends of the snapped-off branches caught their loads. 
Their shoulders ached, their boots were ripped, their 
feet were badly galled; but they held on stubbornly, 
plunging deeper into the mountains all the while. It 
would probably overcome the average man if he were 
compelled to carry all the provisions he needed for a 
week along a well-kept road, but the task of the pros¬ 
pector and the survey packer, who must transport also 
an ax, cooking utensils and whatever protection he 
requires from the weather, through almost impene¬ 
trable thickets, is infinitely more difficult. 

Vane and Carroll were more or less used to it, but 
both of them were badly jaded when soon after set¬ 
ting out one morning they climbed a clearer hillside 
to look about them. High up ahead, the crest of the 
white range gleamed dazzlingly against leaden clouds 
in a burst of sunshine; below, dark forest, still 


ON THE TRAIL 


311 


wrapped in gloom, filled all the valley; and in between, 
a belt of timber touched by the light shone with a 
curious silvery luster. Though it was some distance 
off, probably a day’s journey allowing for the dif¬ 
ficulty of the march. Vane gazed at it earnestly. The 
trees were bare — there was no doubt of that, for 
the dwindling ranks, diminished by the distance, stood 
out against the snow-streaked rock like rows of thick 
needles set upright; their straightness and the way 
they glistened suggested the resemblance. 

‘‘ Ominous, isn’t it ? ” Carroll suggested at length. 
‘‘If this is the valley Hartley came down — and every¬ 
thing points to that — we should be getting near the 
spruce.” 

Vane’s face grew set. 

“ Yes,” he agreed. “ There has been a big fire up 
yonder; but whether it has swept the lower ground 
or not is more than I can tell. We’ll find out to-night 
or early to-morrow.” 

He swung round without another word, and 
scrambling down the hillside they resumed the march. 
They pushed on all that day rather faster than before, 
with the same uncertainty troubling both of them. 
Forest fires are common in that region when there is 
a hot dry fall; and where, as often happens, a deep 
valley forms a natural channel for the winds that 
fan them, they travel far, stripping and charring the 
surface of every tree in their way. Neither of the 
men thought of stopping for a noonday meal, and 
during the gloomy afternoon, when dingy clouds rolled 
down from the peaks, they plodded forward with 
growing impatience. They could see scarcely a hun¬ 
dred yards in front of them; dense withering thickets 


312 VANE OF THE TIMBERLANDS 

choked up the spaces between the towering trunks; 
and there was nothing to indicate that they were 
nearing the burned area when at last they pitched their 
camp as darkness fell. 


CHAPTER XXVII 


THE END OF THE SEARCH 

^ I ^HE two men made a hurried breakfast in the cold 
dawn, and soon afterward they were struggling 
through thick timber when the light suddenly grew 
clearer. Carroll remarked upon the fact and Vane’s 
face hardened. 

“ We’re either coming to a swamp, or the track the 
fire has swept is close in front,” he explained. 

A thicket lay before them, but they smashed sav¬ 
agely through the midst of it, the undergrowth snap¬ 
ping and crackling about their limbs. Then there 
was a network of tangled branches to be crossed, and 
afterward, reaching slightly clearer ground, they 
broke into a run. Three or four minutes later they 
stopped, breathless and ragged, with their rent boots 
scarcely clinging to their feet, and gazed eagerly about. 

The living forest rose behind them, an almost un¬ 
broken wall, but ahead the trees ran up in detached 
and blackened spires. Their branches had vanished; 
every cluster of somber-green needles and delicate 
spray had gone; the great rampicks looked like shafts 
of charcoal. About their feet lay crumbling masses of 
calcined wood, which grew more numerous where 
there were open spaces farther on, and then the bare, 
black columns ran on again, up the valley and the 
steep hill benches on either hand. It was a weird 

313 


314 VANE OF THE TIMBERLANDS 

scene of desolation; impressive to the point of being 
appalling in its suggestiveness of wide-spread ruin. 

For the space of a minute the men gazed at it; 
and then Vane, stretching out his hand, pointed to a 
snow-sheeted hill. 

‘‘ That’s the peak Hartley mentioned,” he said in 
a voice which was strangely incisive. “ Give me the 
ax! ” 

He took it from his comrade and striding forward 
attacked the nearest rampick. Twice the keen blade 
sank noiselessly overhead, scattering a black dust in 
the frosty air, and then there was a clear, ringing 
thud. After that. Vane smote on with a determined 
methodical swiftness, until Carroll grabbed his shoul¬ 
der. 

‘‘ Look out! ” he cried. “ It’s going! ” 

Vane stepped back a few paces; the trunk reeled 
and rushed downward; there was a deafening crash, 
and they were enveloped in a cloud of gritty dust. 
Through the midst of it they dimly saw two more 
great trunks collapse; and then somewhere up the val¬ 
ley a series of thundering shocks, which both knew 
were not echoes, broke out. The sound jarred on 
Carroll’s nerves, as the thud of the felled rampick had 
not done. Vane picked up one of the chips. 

‘'We have found Hartley’s spruce.” 

Carroll did not answer for a minute. After all, 
when defeat must be faced, there was very little to be 
said, though his companion’s expression troubled him. 
Its grim stolidity was portentous. 

“ I suppose,” he suggested hopefully, “ nothing could 
be done with it ? ” 

Vane pointed to the butt of the tree, which showed 


THE END OF THE SEARCH 315 

a space of clear wood surrounded by a blackened rim. 

“You can’t make marketable pulp of charcoal, and 
the price would have to run pretty high before it 
would pay for ripping most of the log away to get at 
the residue. 

“ But there may be some unburned spruce farther’ 
on.” 

“ It’s possible. I’m going to find out.” 

This was a logical determination; but, in spite of 
his recent suggestion, Carroll realized that he would 
have abandoned the search there and then, had the 
choice been left to him, in which he did not think he 
was singular. After all they had undergone and the 
risk they had run in leaving Vancouver, the shock of 
the disappointment was severe. He could have faced 
a failure to locate the spruce, with some degree of 
philosophical calm; but to find it at last, useless, was 
very much worse. He did not, however, expect his 
companion to turn back yet; before he desisted. Vane 
would search for and examine every unbumed tree. 
What was more, Carroll would have to accompany 
him. He noticed that Vane was waiting for him to 
speak, and he decided that this was a situation which 
he would better endeavor to treat lightly. 

“ I think I’ll have a smoke,” he said. “ I’m afraid 
any remarks I could make wouldn’t do justice to the 
occasion. Language has its limits.” 

He sat down on the charred log and took out his 
pipe. 

“ A brulee’s not a nice place to wander about in 
when there’s any wind,” he proceeded; “and I’ve an 
idea there’s some coming, though it’s still enough 
now.’^ 


3 i6 vane of the TIMBERLANDS 

Shut in, as they were, in the deep hollow with the 
towering snows above them, it was impressively still; 
and, in conjunction with the sight of the black deso¬ 
lation, the deep silence reacted on Carroll’s nerves. 
He longed to escape from it, to make a noise; though 
this, if done unguardedly, might bring more of the 
rampicks thundering down. He could hear tiny 
flakes of charcoal falling from them and, though the 
fire had long gone out, a faint and curious crackling, 
as if the dead embers were stirring. He wondered if 
it were some effect of the frost; it struck him as dis¬ 
turbing and weird. 

“ We’ll work right round the brulee,” Vane de¬ 
cided. Then I suppose we’d better head back for 
Vancouver, though we’ll look at that cedar as we go 
down. Something might be made of it — I’m not 
sure we’ve thrown our time away.” 

You’d never be sure of that. It isn’t in you.” 

Vane disregarded this. A new, constructive policy 
was already springing up out of the wreck of his 
previous plans. 

There’s a good mill site on the inlet, but as it’s 
a long way from the railroad we’ll have to determine 
whether it would be cheaper to tow the logs down or 
split them up on the spot. I’ll talk it over with Dray¬ 
ton; he’ll no doubt be useful, and there’s no reason 
why he shouldn’t earn his share.” 

‘‘ Do you consider that the arrangement you made 
with Hartley applies to the cedar? ” Carroll asked. 

Of course. I don’t know that the other parties 
could insist on the original terms — we can discuss 
that later; but, though it may be modified, the arrange¬ 
ment stands.” 


THE END OF THE SEARCH 317 

His companion considered the matter dispassion¬ 
ately, as an abstract proposition. Here was a man, 
who in return for certain information respecting the 
whereabouts of a marketable commodity had under¬ 
taken to find and share it with his informant. The 
commodity had proved to be valueless, but during the 
search for it he had incidentally discovered something 
else. Was he under any obligation to share the latter 
with his informant’s heirs? 

Carroll decided that the question could be answered 
only in the negative; but he had no intention of dis¬ 
puting his comrade’s point of view. In the first place, 
this would probably make Vane only more determined 
or would ruffle his temper; and, in the second place, 
Carroll was neither a covetous man nor an ambitious 
one, which, perhaps, was fortunate for him. Am¬ 
bition, the mother of steadfast industry and heroic 
effort, has also a less reputable progeny. 

Vane, as his partner realized, was ambitious; but 
in place of aspiring after wealth or social prominence, 
his was a different aim: to rend the hidden minerals 
from the hills, to turn forests into dressed lumber, to 
make something grow. Money is often, though not 
always, made that way; but, while Vane affected no 
contempt for it, in his case its acquisition was un¬ 
doubtedly not the end. Fortunately, he was not alto¬ 
gether singular in this respect. 

When he next spoke, however, there was no hint 
of altruistic sentiment in his curt inquiry: 

Are you going to sit there until you freeze? ” 

Carroll got up and they spent the remainder of the 
day plodding through the brulee, with the result that 
when darkness fell Vane had abandoned all idea of 


3 i8 vane of the TIMBERLANDS 

working the spruce. The next morning they set out 
for the inlet, and one afternoon during the journey 
they came upon several fallen logs lying athwart each 
other with their branches spread in an almost im¬ 
penetrable tangle. Vane proceeded to walk along one 
log, which was tilted up several yards above the 
ground, balancing himself carefully upon the rounded 
surface, and Carroll followed cautiously. Suddenly 
there was a sharp snapping, and Vane plunged head¬ 
long into the tangle beneath, while Carroll stood still 
and laughed. It was not an uncommon accident. 

Vane, however, did not reappear; nor was there 
any movement among the half-rotten boughs and with¬ 
ered sprays, and Carroll, moving forward hastily, 
looked down into the hole. He was disagreeably sur¬ 
prised to see his comrade lying, rather white in face, 
upon his side. 

“ I’m afraid you’ll have to chop me out,” came up 
hoarsely. ‘‘ Get to work. I can’t move my leg.” 

Moving farther along the log, Carroll dropped to 
the ground, which was less encumbered there, and 
spent the next quarter of an hour hewing a passage 
to his comrade. Then as he stood beside him, hot and 
panting. Vane looked up. 

“ It’s my lower leg; the left,” he explained. ‘‘ Bone’s 
broken; I felt it snap.” 

Carroll turned from him for a moment in consterna¬ 
tion. Looking out between the branches, he could see 
the lonely hills tower, pitilessly white, against the blue 
of the frosty sky, and the rigid firs running back as 
far as his vision reached upon their lower slopes. 
There was no touch of life in all the picture; every- 


THE END OF THE SEARCH 319 

thing was silent and absolutely motionless, and its des¬ 
olation came near to appalling him. When he looked 
around again, Vane smiled wryly. 

“If this had happened farther north, it would 
have been the end of me,” he said. “ As it is, it’s awk¬ 
ward.” 

The word struck Carroll as singularly inexpressive, 
but he made an effort to gather his courage when his 
companion broke off with a groan of pain. 

“ It’s lucky we helped that doctor when he set 
Pete’s leg at Bryant’s mill,” he declared cheerily. 
“ Can you wait a few minutes ? ” 

Vane’s face was beaded with damp now, but he tried 
to smile. 

“ It strikes me,” he answered, “ I’ll have to wait a 
mighty long time.” 

Carroll turned and left him. He was afraid to 
stand still and think, and action was a relief. It was 
some time before he returned with several strips of 
fabric cut from the tent curtain, and the neatest splints 
he could extemporize from slabs of stripped-off bark; 
and the next half-hour was a trying one to both of 
them. Sometimes Vane assisted him with sugges¬ 
tions — once he reviled his clumsiness — and some¬ 
times he lay silent with his face awry and his lips 
tight set; but at length it was done and Carroll stood 
up, breathing hard. 

“ I’ll fasten you on to a couple of skids and pull 
you out. Then I’ll make camp here.” 

He managed it with difficulty, pitched the tent above 
Vane, whom he covered with their blankets, and made 
a fire outside. 


320 VANE OF THE TIMBERLANDS 

Are you comfortable now? ” he inquired. 

Vane looked up at him with a somewhat ghastly 
smile. 

“ I suppose I’m about as comfortable as could be 
expected. Anyhow, I’ve got to get used to the thing. 
Six weeks is the shortest limit, isn’t it? ” 

Carroll confessed that he did not know, and pres¬ 
ently Vane spoke again. 

“ It’s lucky that the winters aren’t often very cold 
near the coast.” 

The temperature struck Carroll as low enough, 
but he made no comment. To his disgust, he 
could think of no cheering observation, for 
there was no doubt that the situation was serious. 
They were cut off from the sloop by leagues of tan¬ 
gled forest which a vigorous man would find it diffi¬ 
cult to traverse, and it would be weeks before Vane 
could use his leg; no human assistance could be looked 
for; and they had only a small quantity of provisions 
left. Besides this, it would not be easy to keep the 
sufferer warm in rigorous weather. 

'' I’ll get supper. You’ll feel better afterward,” he 
said at length. 

Don’t be too liberal,” Vane warned him. 

After the meal. Vane fell into a restless doze, and 
it was dark when he opened his eyes again. 

I can’t sleep any more, and we may as well talk — 
there are things to be arranged. In the first place, as 
soon as I feel a little easier you’ll have to sail across 
to Comox and hire some men to pack me out. When 
you’ve sent them off, you can make for Vancouver and 
get a timber license and find out how matters are go¬ 
ing on.” 


THE END OF THE SEARCH 321 

That is quite out of the question,” Carroll replied 
firmly. ‘‘ Nairn can look after our mining interests 
— he’s a capable man — and if the thing’s too much 
for him, they can go to smash. Besides, they won’t 
give you a timber license without full particulars of 
area and limits, and we’ve blazed no boundaries. 
Anyhow, I’m staying right here.” 

Vane began to protest, but Carroll raised his hand. 

‘‘ Argument’s not conducive to recovery. You’re on 
your back, unfortunately, and I’ll give way to you as 
usual as soon as you’re on your feet again, but not 
before.” 

I’d better point out that we’ll both be hungry by 
that time. The provisions won’t last long.” 

Then I’ll look for a deer as soon as I think you 
can be left. And now we’ll try to talk of something 
more amusing.” 

“ Can you see anything humorous in the situation ? ” 

‘‘ I can’t,” Carroll confessed. “ Still, there may 
be something of that description which I haven’t no¬ 
ticed yet. By the way, the last time we were at 
Nairn’s I happened to cross the room near where you 
and Miss Horsfield were sitting, and I heard her ask 
you to wait for something at Nanaimo or Comox. It 
struck me as curious.” 

She told me to wait so that she could send me 
word to come back, if it should be needful.” 

“ Ah! ” ejaculated Carroll. “ I won’t ask why she 
was willing to do so — it concerns you more than me 
— but I think that as regards your interests in the Cler¬ 
mont a warning from her would be worth as much as 
one from Nairn; that is, if she could be depended on.” 

“ Have you any doubt upon the subject? ” 


322 VANE OF THE TIMBERLANDS 

Carroll made a soothing gesture. 

“ Don’t get angry! Perhaps I’ve talked too much. 
We have to think of your leg.” 

* I’m not likely to forget it,” Vane informed him. 

But I dare say you’re right in one respect — as an 
amusing companion you’re a dead failure; and talk¬ 
ing isn’t as easy as I thought.” 

He lay silent afterward, and though he had dis¬ 
claimed any desire for sleep, worn by the march and 
pain as he was, his eyes presently closed. Carroll, 
however, sat long awake that night, and he afterward 
confessed that he felt badly afraid. Deer are by no 
means numerous in some parts of the bush — they had 
not seen one during the journey; and it was a long way 
to the sloop. 

Once or twice, for no obvious reason, he drew aside 
the tent flap and looked out. The sky was cloudless 
and darkly blue, and a sickle moon gleamed in it, keen 
and clear with frost. Below, the hills were washed 
in silver, majestic, but utterly cheerless; and lower 
still the serrated tops of the rigid firs cut against the 
dreary whiteness. After each glimpse of them. Car- 
roll drew his blanket tighter round him with a shiver. 
Very shortly, when the little flour and pork was gone 
and their few cartridges had been expended, he would 
be reduced to the condition of primitive man. Cut 
off from all other resources, he must then wrest what 
means of subsistence he could from the snowy wil¬ 
derness by brute strength and cunning and such in¬ 
struments as he could make with his unassisted hands, 
except that an ax of Pennsylvania steel was better 
than a stone one. Civilization has its compensations, 
and Carroll longed for a few more of them that night. 


THE END OF THE SEARCH 323 

On rising the next morning, he found the frost 
keener, and he spent that day and a number of those 
that followed in growing anxiety, which was only 
temporarily lessened when he once succeeded in kill¬ 
ing a deer. There was almost a dearth of animal life 
in the lonely valley. Sometimes, at first. Vane was 
feverish; often he was irritable; and the recollection 
of the three or four weeks he spent with him afterward 
haunted Carroll like a nightmare. At last, when he 
had spent several days in vain search for a deer and 
the provisions were almost exhausted, he and his com¬ 
panion held a council of emergency. 

“ There’s no use in arguing,” Vane declared. 
‘‘ You’ll rig me a shelter of green boughs outside the 
tent and close to the fire. I can move from the waist 
upward and, if it’s necessary, drag myself with my 
hands. Then you can chop enough cord-wood to last 
a while, cook my share of the eatables, and leave me 
while you go down to the sloop. There’s half a bag 
of flour on board her, and a few other things I’d be 
uncommonly glad to have.” 

Carroll expostulated; but it was evident that his 
companion was right, and the next morning he started 
for the inlet, taking with him the smallest possible 
portion of their provisions. So long as he had enough 
to keep him from fainting on the way, it was all he 
required, because he could renew his stores on board 
the sloop. The weather broke during the march; 
driving snow followed him down the valley, and by 
and by gave place to bitter rain. The withered under¬ 
brush was saturated, the soil was soddened with melt¬ 
ing snow, and after the first scanty meal or two the 
man dare risk no delay. He felt himself flagging 


324 VANE OF THE TIMBERLANDS 

from insufficient food, and it was obvious that he 
must reach the sloop before he broke down. He had 
tobacco, but that failed to stay the gnawing pangs, 
and before the march was done he was on the verge 
of exhaustion, forcing himself onward, drenched and 
grim of face, scarcely able to keep upon his bleeding 
feet. 

It was falling dusk and blowing fresh when he 
limped down the beach and with a last effort launched 
the light dingey and pulled off to the sloop. She rode 
rather deep in the water, but that did not trouble 
him. Most wooden craft leak more or less, and it 
was a considerable time since he had pumped her out. 
Clambering wearily on board, he made the dingey fast; 
and then stood still a moment or two, looking about 
him with his hand on the cabin slide. Thin flakes of 
snow drifted past him; the firs were rustling eerily 
ashore, and ragged wisps of cloud drove by low down 
above their tops. Little frothy ripples flecked the 
darkening water with streaks of white and splashed 
angrily against the bows of the craft. The prospect 
was oppressively dreary, and the worn-out man was 
glad that he was at last in shelter and could snatch a 
few hours’ rest. 

Thrusting back the slide, he stepped below and 
lighted the lamp. The brightening glow showed him 
that the boat’s starboard side was wet high up, and 
though there was a good deal of water in her, this 
puzzled him until an explanation suggested itself. 
They had moored the craft carefully, but he supposed 
she must have dragged her anchor or kedge and swung 
in near enough the shore to ground toward low tide. 
Then as the tide left her she would fall over on her 


THE END OF THE SEARCH 325 

starboard bilge, because they had lashed the heavy 
boom down on that side, and the water in her would 
cover the depressed portion of her interior. This 
reasoning was probably correct; but he did not foresee 
the result until, after lighting the stove and putting 
on the kettle, he opened the provision locker, which 
was to starboard. Then he saw with a shock of dis¬ 
may that the stock of food they had counted on was 
ruined. The periodically-submerged flour-bag had 
rotted and burst, and most of its contents had run out 
into the water as the boat righted with the rising tide; 
the prepared cereals, purchased to save cooking, had 
turned to moldy pulp; and the few other stores were 
in much the same condition. There were only two 
sound cans of beef and a few ounces of unspoiled tea 
in a canister. 

Carroll’s courage failed him as he realized it, but he 
felt that he must eat and sleep before he could grapple 
with the situation. He would allow himself a scanty 
meal and a few hours’ rest. While the kettle boiled, 
he crawled out and shortened in the cable and plied the 
pump. Then he went below and feasted on preserved 
beef and tea, gaging the size of each slice with anxious 
care, until he reluctantly laid the can aside. After 
that, he filled his pipe and stretching his aching limbs 
out on the port locker, which was comparatively dry, 
soon sank into heavy sleep. 


CHAPTER XXVIII 


CARROLL SEEKS HELP 

C ARROLL slept for several hours before he awak¬ 
ened and sat up on the locker, shivering. He 
had left the hatch slightly open, and a confused up¬ 
roar reached him from outside; the wail of wind- 
tossed trees; the furious splash of ripples against the 
bows; and the drumming of the halyards upon the 
mast. There was no doubt that it was blowing hard, 
but the wind was off the land and the sloop in shelter. 

Filling his pipe, he set himself to think, and promptly 
decided that it would have been better had he gone 
down to the sloop in the beginning, before the pro¬ 
visions had been spoiled. A natural reluctance to 
leave his helpless companion had mainly prevented 
him from doing this, but he had also been encouraged 
by the possibility of obtaining a deer now and then. 
It was clear that he had made a mistake in remaining, 
but it was not the first time he had done so, and the 
point was unimportant. The burning question was — 
what should he do now. 

It would obviously be useless to go back with 
rations that would barely suffice for the march. Vane 
still had food enough to keep life in one man for a 
little while, and it would not be a long run to Comox 
with a strong northerly wind. If the sloop would 
face the sea that was running he might return with 
326 


CARROLL SEEKS HELP 


327 

assistance before his comrade’s scanty store was ex¬ 
hausted. Getting out the mildewed chart, he laid off 
his course, carefully trimmed and lighted the binnacle 
lamp, and going up on deck hauled in the kedge-an- 
chor. He could not break the main one out, though 
he worked savagely with a tackle, and deciding to slip 
it, he managed to lash three reefs in the mainsail and 
hoist it with the peak left down. Then he stopped to 
gather breath — for the work had been cruelly heavy 
— before he let the cable run and hoisted the jib. 

She paid off when he put up his helm, and the black 
loom of trees ashore vanished. He thought that he 
could find his way out of the inlet, but he knew that 
he had done so only when the angry ripples that 
splashed about the boat suddenly changed to confused 
tumbling combers. They foamed up in quick suc¬ 
cession on her quarter, but he fancied she would with¬ 
stand their onslaught so long as he could prevent her 
from screwing up to windward when she lifted. It 
would need constant care, and if he failed, the next 
comber would, no doubt, break on board. His task 
was one that would have taxed the vigilance of a 
strong, well-fed man, and Carroll had already nearly 
reached the limit of his powers. 

His case, however, was by no means an unusual 
one. The cost of the subjugation of the wilderness 
is the endurance of hunger and thirst, cold and crush¬ 
ing fatigue; and somebody pays, to the utmost far¬ 
thing. Carroll sitting, drenched, strung up and hungry, 
at the helm, was merely playing his part in the strug¬ 
gle, though he found it cruelly difficult. 

It was pitch dark, but he must gaze ahead and guess 
the track of the pursuing seas by the angle of the 


328 VANE OF THE TIMBERLANDS 

spouting white ridge abreast of the weather shrouds. 
He had a compass, but when his course did not coin¬ 
cide with safety it must be disregarded. The one 
essential thing was to keep the sloop on top, and to do 
so he had frequently to let her fall off dead before 
the mad white combers that leaped out of the dark. 
By and by his arms began to ache from the strain of 
the tiller, and his wet fingers grew stiff and claw-like. 
The nervous strain was also telling, but that could 
not be helped; he must keep the craft before the sea 
or go down with her. There was one consolation; 
she was traveling at a furious speeed. 

At length, morning broke, gray and lowering, 
over a leaden sea that was seamed with white. Car- 
roll glanced longingly at the meat can on the locker 
near his feet. He could reach it by stooping, though 
he dare not leave the helm, but he determined to wait 
until noon before he broke his fast again. It could 
not be very far to Comox, but the wind might drop. 
Then he began to wonder how he had escaped the 
perils of the night. He had come down what was 
really a wide and not quite straight sound, passing sev¬ 
eral unlighted islands. Before starting, he had de¬ 
cided that he would run so far, and then change his 
course a point or two, but he could not be sure that he 
had done so. He had a hazy recollection of seeing 
surf, and once a faint loom of land, but he supposed 
that he had avoided it half-consciously or that chance 
had favored him. 

In the afternoon, the wind changed a little, backing 
to the northwest; the sky grew brighter, and Carroll 
made out shadowy land over his starboard quarter. 
Soon he recognized it with a start. It was the high 


CARROLL SEEKS HELP 


329 

ridge north of Comox. He had run farther than he 
had expected, and he must try to hoist the peak of the 
mainsail and haul her on the wind. There was danger 
in rounding her up, but it must be faced, though a sea 
foamed across her as he put down his helm. An¬ 
other followed, but he scrambled forward and strug¬ 
gled desperately to hoist the down-hanging gaff. The 
halyards were swollen; and he could scarcely keep his 
footing on the deluged deck that slanted steeply under 
him. He thought he could have mastered the bang¬ 
ing canvas had he been fresh; but worn out as he was, 
drenched with spray and buffeted by the shattered tops 
of the seas, the task was beyond his power. Giving it 
up, he staggered back, breathless and almost nerveless, 
to the helm. 

He could not reach Comox, which lay to windward, 
with the sail half set, but it was only seventy miles or 
so to Nanaimo and not much farther to Vancouver. 
The breeze would be fair to either, and he could char¬ 
ter a launch or tug for the return journey. Letting 
her go before the sea again, he ate some canned meat 
ravenously, tearing it with one hand. 

During the afternoon, a gray mass rose out of the 
water to port and he supposed it was Texada. There 
were mines on the island and he might be able to en¬ 
gage a rescue party; but he reflected that he could 
not beat the sloop back to windward unless the breeze 
fell, which it showed no signs of doing. It would be 
more prudent to go on to Vancouver, where he would 
be sure of getting a steamer; but he closed with the 
long island a little, and dusk was falling when he made 
out a boat in the partial shelter of a bight. Standing 
in closer, he saw that there were two men on the craft. 


330 VANE OF THE TIMBERLANDS 

and driving down upon her he backed and ran along¬ 
side. There was a crash as he struck the boat and 
an astonished and angry man clutched the sloop’s 
rail. 

‘‘Now what in the name of thunder—” he began 
and stopped, struck by Carroll’s haggard and ragged 
appearance. 

“Can you take this sloop to Vancouver?” Carroll 
asked hoarsely. 

“ I could if it was worth while,” was the cautious 
answer. “ It will be a mighty wet run.” 

“ Seven dollars a day, until you’re home again. A 
bonus, if you can sail her with the whole reefed main¬ 
sail up — I won’t stick at a few dollars. Can your 
partner pull that boat ashore alone? If not, cast her 
adrift; I’ll buy her.” 

“ He’ll make the beach,” returned the other, jump¬ 
ing on board. “ Seven dollars sounds a square deal. 
I won’t put the screw on you.” 

“ Then help me hoist the peak. After that, you 
can take the helm; I’m played out.” 

The man shouted something to his companion and 
then seized the halyards, and the sloop drove on again, 
furiously, with an increased spread of canvas, while 
Carroll stood holding on by the coaming until the boat 
dropped back. 

“ I’ll leave you to it,” he told the new helmsman. 
“ It’s twenty-four hours since I’ve had more than a 
bite or two of food, and some weeks since I had a 
decent meal.” 

“ You look it. Been up against it somewhere ? ” 

Carroll, without replying, crawled below and man¬ 
aged to light the stove and make a kettleful of tea. 


CARROLL SEEKS HELP 


331 

He drank a good deal of it, and nearly emptied the 
remaining small meat can, which he presently held out 
for the helmsman’s inspection, standing beneath the 
hatch. 

‘‘ There’s some tea left, but this is all there is to 
eat on board the craft,” he said. ‘‘You’re hired to 
take her to Vancouver — you’d better get there as 
quick as you can.” 

The bronzed helmsman nodded. 

“ She won’t be long on the way if the mast holds 
up.” 

“ Have you seen any papers lately ? ” Carroll in¬ 
quired. “ I’ve been up in the bush and I’m interested 
in the Clermont Mine. It looked as if there might be 
some changes in the company’s prospects when I went 
away.” 

“ I noticed a bit about it in the Colonist a while 
back. The company sold out to another concern, or 
amalgamated with it; I don’t remember which.” 

Carroll was not astonished. The news implied that 
he must be prepared to face a more or less serious 
financial reverse, and it struck him as a fitting climax 
to his misadventures. 

“ It’s pretty much what I expected,” he said. “ I’m 
going to sleep and I don’t want to be wakened before 
it’s necessary.” 

He crawled below, and he had hardly stretched him¬ 
self out upon the locker before his eyes closed. When 
he opened them, feeling more like his usual self, he 
saw that the sun was above the horizon, and he rec¬ 
ognized by the boat’s motion that the wind had fallen. 
Going out he found her driving through the water 
under her whole mainsail and the helmsman sitting 


332 VANE OF THE TIMBERLANDS 

stolidly at the tiller. The man stretched out a hand 
and pointed to the hazy hills to port. 

We’ll fetch the Narrows some time before noon. 
If you’ll take the helm, I guess we’ll half that meat for 
breakfast.” 

His prediction proved correct, for Carroll reached 
his hotel about midday, and hastily changing his 
clothes set off to call on Nairn. He had not yet re¬ 
covered his mental equipoise and, in spite of his long, 
sound sleep, he was still badly jaded physically. On 
arriving at the house, he was shown into a room where 
Mrs. Nairn and her husband were sitting with Evelyn, 
waiting for the midday meal. The elder lady rose 
with a start of astonishment when he walked in. 

‘‘Man,” she cried, “what’s wrong? Ye’re looking 
like a ghost.” 

It was not an inapt description. Carroll’s face was 
worn and haggard, and his clothes hung slack upon 
him. 

“ I’ve been feeling rather unsubstantial of late, as 
the result of a restricted diet,” he answered with a 
smile, sinking into the nearest chair. 

Nairn regarded him with carefully suppressed cu¬ 
riosity. 

“ Ye’re over lang in coming,” he remarked. 
“ Where left ye your partner? ” 

Carroll sat silent a moment or two, his eyes fixed 
on Evelyn. It was evident that his sudden appear¬ 
ance unaccompanied by Vane, which he felt had been 
undesirably dramatic, had alarmed her. At first, he 
felt compassionate, and then he was suddenly pos¬ 
sessed by hot indignation. This girl, with her narrow 
prudish notions and dispassionate nature, had pre- 


CARROLL SEEKS HELP 


333 


sumed to condemn his comrade, unheard, for an im¬ 
aginary offense. The thing was at once ludicrous and 
intolerable; if his news brought her dismay, let her 
suffer. His nerves, it must be remembered, were not 
in their normal condition. 

Yes,’’ he said, in answer to his host’s first re¬ 
mark ; I’ve gathered that we have failed to save the 
situation. But I don’t know exactly what has hap¬ 
pened. You had better tell me.” 

Mrs. Nairn made a sign of protest, but her husband 
glanced at her restrainingly. 

‘‘ Ye will hear his news in good time,” he informed 
her, and then turned to Carroll. “ In a few words, 
the capital was no subscribed — it leaked out that the 
ore was running poor — and we held an emergency 
meeting. With Vane away, I could put no confidence 
into the shareholders — they were anxious to get 
from under — and Horsfield brought forward an 
amalgamation scheme: A combine would take the 
property over, on their valuation. I and a few others 
were outvoted; the scheme went through; and when 
the announcement steadied the stock, which had been 
tumbling down, I exercised the authority given me and 
sold your shares and Vane’s at considerably less than 
their face value. Ye can have particulars later. What 
I have to ask now is — where is Vane ? ” 

The man’s voice grew sharp; the question was flung 
out like an accusation; but Carroll still looked at Ev¬ 
elyn. He felt very bitter against her; he would not 
soften the blow. 

I left him in the bush, with no more than a few 
days’ provisions and a broken leg,” he announced. 
Then, in spite of Evelyn’s efforts to retain her com- 


334 VANE OF THE TIMBERLANDS 

posure, her face blanched. Carroll’s anger vanished, 
because the truth was clear. Vane had triumphed 
through disaster; his peril and ruin had swept his of¬ 
fenses away. The girl, who had condemned him in 
his prosperity, would not turn from him in misfortune. 
In the meanwhile the others sat silent, gazing at the 
bearer of evil news, until he spoke again. 

I want a tug to take me back, at once, if she can 
be got. I’ll pick up a few men along the water¬ 
front.” 

Nairn rose and went out of the room. The tinkle 
of a telephone bell reached those who remained, and 
a minute or two later he came back. 

“ I’ve sent Whitney round,” he explained. He’ll 
come across if there’s a boat to be had, and now ye 
look as if ye needed lunch.” 

“ It’s several weeks since I had one,” Carroll smiled. 

The meal was brought in, but for a while he talked 
as well as ate, relating his adventures in somewhat 
disjointed fragments, while the others sat listening 
eagerly. He was also pleased to notice something 
which suggested returning confidence in him in Ev¬ 
elyn’s intent eyes as the tale proceeded. When at last 
he had made the matter clear, he added: 

“ If I keep you waiting, you’ll excuse me.” 

His hostess watched his subsequent efforts with can¬ 
did approval, and looking up once or twice, he saw 
sympathy in the girl’s face, instead of the astonish¬ 
ment or disgust he had half expected. When he fin¬ 
ished, his hostess rose and Carroll stood up, but Nairn 
motioned to him to resume his place. 

‘‘ I’m thinking ye had better sit still a while and 
smoke,” he said. 


CARROLL SEEKS HELP 


335 

Carroll was glad to do so, and he and Nairn con¬ 
ferred together until the latter was called to telephone. 

‘‘Ye can have the Brodick boat at noon to-morrow,” 
he reported on his return. 

“ That won’t do,” Carroll objected heavily. “ Send 
Whitney round again; I must sail to-night.” 

He had some difficulty in getting out the words, 
and when he rose his eyes were half closed. Walking 
unsteadily, he crossed the room and sank onto a big 
lounge. 

“ I think,” he added, “ if you don’t mind. I’ll go to 
sleep.” 

Nairn merely nodded, and when he went silently out 
of the room a minute or two afterward, the worn-out 
man was already wrapped in profound slumber. 
Nairn just then received another call by telephone and 
left in haste for his office without speaking to his wife, 
with the result that Mrs. Nairn and Evelyn, returning 
to the room in search of Carroll, found him lying still. 
The elder lady raised her hand in warning as she bent 
over the sleeper, and then taking up a light rug spread 
it gently over him. Evelyn, too, was stirred to sudden 
pity, for the man’s attitude was eloquent of exhaus¬ 
tion. They withdrew softly and had reached the cor¬ 
ridor outside when Mrs. Nairn turned to the girl. 

“ When he first came in, ye blamed that man for 
deserting his partner,” she said. 

Evelyn confessed it and her hostess smiled mean¬ 
ingly. 

“ Are ye no rather too ready to blame ? ” 

“ I’m afraid I am,” Evelyn admitted, with the color 
creeping into her face as she remembered another in¬ 
stance in which she had condemned a man hastily. 


336 VANE OF THE TIMBERLANDS 

In this case, ye were very foolish. The man came 
down for help, and if he could no get it, he would go 
back his lone, if all the way was barred with ice and 
he must walk on his naked feet. Love of woman’s 
strong and the fear of death is keen, but ye will find 
now and then a faith between man and man that 
neither would sever.” She paused and looked at the 
girl fixedly as she asked: “ What of him that could 
inspire it ? ” 

Evelyn did not answer. She had never seen her 
hostess in this mood, and she also was stirred; but the 
elder lady went on again: 

‘‘ The virtue of a gift lies in part, but no altogether, 
with the giver. Whiles, it may be bestowed un¬ 
worthily, but I’m thinking it’s no often. The bond 
that will drag Carroll back to the North again, to his 
death, if need be, has no been spun from nothing.” 

Evelyn had no doubt that Mrs. Nairn was right. 
Loyalty, most often, demanded a worthy object to 
tender service to; it sprang from implicit confidence, 
mutual respect and strong appreciation. It was not 
without a reason that Vane had inspired it in his com¬ 
rade’s breast; and this was the man she had con¬ 
demned. That fact, however, was by comparison a 
very minor trouble. Vane was lying, helpless and 
alone, in the snowy wilderness, in peril of his life; and 
she knew that she loved him. She realized now, when 
it might be too late, that had he in reality been stained 
with dishonor, she could have forgiven him. Indeed, 
it had only been by a painful effort that she had main¬ 
tained some show of composure since Carroll had 
brought the disastrous news, and she felt that she could 
not keep it up much longer. 


CARROLL SEEKS HELP 


337 


What she said to Mrs. Nairn she could not remem¬ 
ber, but escaping from her she retired to her own room, 
to lie still and grapple with an agony of fear and con¬ 
trition. 

It was two hours later when she went down and 
found Carroll, who still looked drowsy, about to go 
out. His hostess had left him for a moment in the 
hall, and meeting the girl’s eyes, he smiled at her re¬ 
assuringly. 

“ Don’t be anxious. I’ll bring him back,” he said. 

Then Mrs. Nairn appeared and in a few moments 
Carroll left without another word to Evelyn. She did 
not ask herself why he had taken it for granted that 
she would be anxious; she was beyond any petty re¬ 
gard for appearances then. It was consoling to re¬ 
member that he was Vane’s tried comrade; a man 
who kept his word. 


CHAPTER XXIX 

JESSYES CONTRITION 

A fter leaving Mrs. Nairn, Carroll walked to¬ 
ward Horsfield’s residence in a thoughtful mood, 
because he felt it incumbent upon him to play a part 
he was not particularly fitted for in a somewhat del¬ 
icate matter. Uncongenial as his task was, it was 
one that could not be left to Vane, who was even less 
to be trusted with the handling of such affairs; and 
Carroll had resolved, as he would have described it, to 
straighten out things. 

His partner had somehow offended Evelyn, and 
though she was now obviously disposed to forgive 
him, the recollection of his supposititious iniquity might 
afterward rankle in her mind. Though Vane was in¬ 
nocent of any conduct to which she could with reason 
take exception, it was first of all needful to ascertain 
the exact nature of the charge against him. Carroll, 
who for several reasons had preferred not to press this 
question upon Evelyn, had a strong suspicion that Jessy 
Horsfield was at the bottom of the trouble. There 
was also one clue to follow — Vane had paid the rent 
of Celia Hartley’s shack, and he wondered whether 
Jessy could by any means have heard of it. If she 
had done so, the matter would be simplified, for he 
had a profound distrust of her. A recent action of 
hers was, he thought, sufficient to justify this attitude. 
He found her at home, reclining gracefully in an 

338 


JESSY’S CONTRITION 


339 

easy-chair in her drawing-room, and though she did 
not seem astonished to see him, he fancied that her 
expression hinted at suppressed concern. 

I heard that you had arrived alone, and I in¬ 
tended to make inquiries from Mrs. Nairn as soon as 
I thought she would be at liberty,” she informed him. 

Carroll had found the direct attack effective in Ev¬ 
elyn’s case, and he determined to try it again. 

“ Then,” he declared, “ it says a good deal for your 
courage.” 

He never doubted that she possessed courage, and 
she displayed it now. 

‘‘ So,” she said calmly, you have come as an en- 
emy.” 

‘‘ Not exactly; it didn’t seem worth while. Though 
there’s no doubt you betrayed us — Vane waited for 
the warning you could have sent — so far as it con¬ 
cerns our ruined interests in the Clermont, the thing’s 
done and can’t be mended. We’ll let that question go. 
The most important point is that if you had recalled 
us, as you promised, Vane would now be safe and 
sound.” 

This shot told. The girl’s face became less imper¬ 
turbable; there was eagerness and, he thought, a hint 
of fear in it. 

“ Then has any accident happened to him? ” 

“ He’s lying in the bush, helpless, in imminent peril 
of starvation.” 

‘‘ Go on!” 

There were signs of strain clearly perceptible in the 
girl’s voice. Carroll was brief, but he made her un¬ 
derstand the position; then she turned upon him im¬ 
periously. 


340 VANE OF THE TIMBERLANDS 

“ Then why are you wasting your time here? ” 

It’s a reasonable question. I can’t get a tug to 
take me back until noon to-morrow.” 

Ah! ” murmured Jessy. ‘‘ Excuse me for a min¬ 
ute.” 

She left him astonished. He had not expected her 
to take him at a disadvantage, as she had done with 
her previous thrust, and now he did not think that she 
had slipped away to hide her feelings. That did not 
seem necessary in Jessy’s case, though he believed she 
was more or less disturbed. She came back pres¬ 
ently, looking calm, and sat down again. 

My brother will be here in a quarter of an hour,” 
she informed him. ‘‘ Things are rather slack, and 
he had half promised to take me for a drive. I have 
just called him up.” 

Carroll did not see how this bore upon the subject 
of their conversation, but he left her to take the lead. 

Did Mr. Vane tell you that I had promised to warn 
him ? ” she asked. 

“To do him justice, he let it out before he quite 
realized what he was saying. I’d better own that I 
partly surprised him into giving me the information.” 

“ The expedient seems a favorite one with you. I 
suppose no news of what has happened here can have 
reached him? ” 

“ None. If it’s any consolation, he has still an 
unshaken confidence in you,” Carroll assured her with 
blunt bitterness. 

The girl showed faint signs of confusion, but she 
sat silent for the next few moments. During that 
time it flashed upon Carroll with illuminating light that 
he had heard Celia Hartley say that Miss Horsfield 


JESSY’S CONTRITION 


341 

had found her orders for millinery. This confirmed 
his previous suspicion that Jessy had discovered who 
had paid the rent of Celia’s shack, and that she had 
with deliberate malice informed Evelyn, distorting her 
account so that it would tell against Vane. There 
were breaks in the chain of reasoning which led him 
to this conclusion, but he did not think that Jessy 
would shrink from such a course, and he determined to 
try a chance shot. 

‘‘ Vane’s inclined to be trustful, and his rash gener¬ 
osity has once or twice got him into trouble,” he re¬ 
marked, and went on as if an explanation were needed: 

It’s Miss Hartley’s case I’m thinking about just 
now. I’ve an idea he asked you to look after her. 
Am I right? ” 

As soon as he had spoken he knew that he had hit 
the mark. Jessy did not openly betray herself, but 
there are not many people who can remain absolutely 
unmoved when unexpectedly asked a startling ques¬ 
tion. Besides, the man was observant, and had all 
his faculties strung up for the encounter. He saw 
one of her hands tighten on the arm of her chair and 
a hint of uneasiness in her eyes, and that sufficed 
him. 

“Yes,” she replied; “I recommended her to some 
of my friends. I understand that she is getting along 
satisfactorily.” 

Carroll felt compelled to admire her manner. He 
believed that she loved his comrade but had neverthe¬ 
less tried to ruin him in a fit of jealous rage. She 
was, no doubt, now keenly regretting her success, but 
though he thought she deserved to suffer, she was 
bravely facing the trying situation. It was one that 


342 VANE OF THE TIMBERLANDS 

was rife with dramatic possibilities, and he was grate¬ 
ful to her for avoiding them. 

“ You are going back to-morrow,” she said after a 
brief silence. “ I suppose you will have to tell your 
partner — what you have discovered here — as soon 
as you reach him ? ” 

Carroll had not intended to spare her, but now he 
felt almost compassionate, and he had one grain of 
comfort to offer. 

“ I must tell him that his shares in the Clermont 
have been sacrificed. I wonder if that is all you 
meant ? ” 

Jessy met his inquiring gaze with something very 
much like an appeal, and then she spread out her 
hands in a manner that seemed to indicate that she 
threw herself upon his mercy. 

“ It is not all I meant,” she confessed. 

“ Then if it’s any relief to you, I’ll confine myself 
to telling him that he has been deprived of his most 
valuable property. I dare say the news will hit him 
hard enough. He may afterward discover other facts 
for himself, but on the whole I shouldn’t consider it 
likely. As I said, he’s confiding and slow to sus¬ 
pect.” 

He read genuine gratitude, which he had hardly 
expected, in the girl’s face; but he raised his hand 
and went on in the rather formal manner which he felt 
was the only safe one to assume: 

I had, perhaps, better mention that I am going to 
call on Miss Hartley. After that, I shall be uncom¬ 
monly thankful to start back for the bush.” He paused 
and concluded with a sudden trace of humor: I’ll own 


JESSY’S CONTRITION 


343 

that I feel more at home with the work that awaits me 
there.” 

Jessy made a little gesture which, while it might 
have meant anything, was somehow very expressive. 
Just then there were footsteps outside and the next 
moment Horsfield walked into the room. 

So you’re back! ” 

‘‘ Yes,” Carroll replied shortly. Beaten at both 
ends — there’s no use in hiding it.” 

Horsfield showed no sign of satisfaction, and Car- 
roll afterward admitted that the man behaved very con¬ 
siderately. 

‘‘ Well,” he declared, “ though you may be aston¬ 
ished to hear it. I’m sorry. Unfortunately, our in¬ 
terests clashed, and I naturally looked after mine. 
Once upon a time I thought I could have worked hand 
in hand with Vane, but our ideas did not coincide, and 
your partner is not the man to yield a point or listen 
to advice.” 

Carroll was aware that Horsfield had by means 
which were far from honorable deprived him of a 
considerable portion of his possessions. He had also 
betrayed his fellow shareholders in the Clermont Mine, 
selling their interests, doubtless for a tempting con¬ 
sideration, to the directors of another company. For 
all that, Carroll recognized that since he and Vane 
were beaten, as he had confessed, recriminations and 
reproaches would be useless as well as undignified. 
He preferred to face defeat calmly. 

‘‘ It’s the fortunes of war,” he returned. “ What 
you say about Vane is more or less correct; but, al¬ 
though it is not a matter of much importance now, it 


344 VANE OF THE TIMBERLANDS 

was impossible from the beginning that your views 
and his ever should agree.’’ 

Horsfield smiled. 

‘'Too great a difiference of temperament? I dare 
say you’re right. Vane measures things by a different 
standard — mine’s perhaps more adapted to the mar¬ 
ket-place. But where have you left him?” 

“ In the bush. Miss Horsfield will, no doubt, give 
you particulars; I’ve just told her the tale.” 

“ She called me up at the office and asked me to come 
across at once. Will you excuse us for a few min¬ 
utes?” 

They went out together, and Jessy presently came 
back alone and looked at Carroll in a diffident man¬ 
ner. 

“ I suppose,” she began, “ one could hardly expect 
you to think of either of us very leniently; but I must 
ask you to believe that I am sincerely distressed to 
hear of your partner’s accident. It was a thing I 
could never have anticipated; but there are amends 
I can make. Every minute you can save is precious, 
isn’t it?” 

“ It is.” 

“ Then I can get you a tug. My brother tells me 
the Atlin is coming across from Victoria and should 
be here early this evening. He has gone back to the 
office to secure her for you, though she was fixed to 
go off for a lumber boom.” 

“ Thank you,” responded Carroll. “ It’s a very 
great service. She’s a powerful boat.” 

Jessy hesitated. 

“ I think my brother would like to say a few words 
when he comes back. Can I offer you some tea ? ” 


JESSY’S CONTRITION 


345 

I think not,” answered Carroll, smiling. ‘‘ For 
one thing, if I sit still much longer, I shall, no doubt, 
go to sleep again, as I did at Nairn’s; and that would 
be neither seemly nor convenient, if Fm to sail this 
evening. Besides, now that we’ve arranged an ar¬ 
mistice, it might be wiser not to put too much strain 
on it.” 

An armistice ? ” 

I think that describes it.” Carroll’s manner grew 
significant. '' The word implies a cessation of hos¬ 
tilities — on certain terms.” 

Jessy could take a hint, and his meaning was clear. 
Unless she forced him to do so, he would not betray 
her to his comrade, who might never discover the 
part she had played; but he had given her a warning, 
which might be bluntly rendered as “ Hands off.” 
There was only one course open to her — to respect 
it. She had brought down the man she loved, but 
it was clear that he was not for her, and now that the 
unreasoning fury which had driven her to strike had 
passed, she was troubled with contrition. There was 
nothing left except to retire from the field, and it was 
better to do so gracefully. For all that, there were 
signs of strain in her expression as she capitulated. 

“ Well,” she said, I have given you proof that 
you have nothing to fear from me. My brother is 
the only man in Vancouver who could have got you 
that tug for this evening; I understand that the saw¬ 
mill people are very much in need of the lumber she 
was engaged to tow.” 

She held out her hand and Carroll took it, though 
he had not expected to part from her on friendly 
terms. 


346 VANE OF THE TIMBERLANDS 

I owe you a good deal for that,” he smiled. 

His task, however, was only half completed when 
he left the house, and the remaining portion was the 
more difficult, but he meant to finish it. He pre¬ 
ferred to take life lightly; he had trifled with it be¬ 
fore disaster had driven him out into the wilds; but 
there was resolution in the man, and he could force 
himself to play an unpleasant part when it was 
needful. Fortune also favored him, as she often 
does those who follow the boldest course. 

He had entered a busy street when he met Kitty 
and Celia. The latter looked thin and somewhat pale, 
but she was moving briskly, and her face was eager 
when she shook hands with him. 

“We have been anxious about you,” she declared; 
“ there was no news. Is Mr. Vane with you? How 
have you got on ? ” 

“ We found the spruce,” answered Carroll. “ It’s 
not worth milling — a forest fire has wiped out most 
of it — but we struck some shingling cedar we may 
make something of.” 

“Where’s Mr. Vane?” 

“ In the bush. I’ve a good deal to tell you about 
him; but we can’t talk here. I wonder if we could 
find a quiet place in a restaurant, or if the park would 
be better.” 

“ The park,” said Kitty decidedly. 

They reached it in due time, and Carroll, who had 
refused to say anything about Vane on the way, found 
the girls a seat in a grove of giant firs and sat down 
opposite to them. Though it was winter, the day, 
as is often the case near Vancouver, was pleasantly 
mild. 


JESSY’S CONTRITION 


347 


“ Now,” he began, my partner is a singularly un¬ 
fortunate person. In the first place, the transfer of 
the Clermont property, which you have no doubt 
heard of, means a serious loss to him, though he is 
not ruined yet. He talks of putting up a shingling 
mill, in which Drayton will be of service, and if things 
turn out satisfactorily you will be given an interest in 
it.” 

He added the last sentence as an experiment, and 
was satisfied with the result. 

“ Never mind our interests,” cried Kitty. What 
about Mr. Vane? ” 

For the third time since his arrival, Carroll made 
the strongest appeal he could to womanly pity, draw¬ 
ing, with a purpose, a vivid picture of his comrade’s 
peril and suffering. Nor was he disappointed, for 
he saw consternation, compassion and sympathy in 
the girls’ faces. So far, the thing had been easy, 
but now he hesitated, and it was with difficulty that he 
nerved himself for what must follow. 

He has been beaten out of his stock in the mine; 
he’s broken down in health and in danger; but, by 
comparison, that doesn’t count for very much with 
him. He has another trouble; and though I’m afraid 
I’m going out of the way in mentioning it, if it could 
be got over, it would help him to face the future and 
set him on his feet again.” 

Then he briefly recounted the story of Vane’s re¬ 
gard for Evelyn, making the most of his sacrifice in 
withdrawing from the field, and again he realized that 
he had acted wisely. A love affair appealed to his 
listeners, and there was a romance in this one that 
heightened the effect of it. 


348 VANE OF THE TIMBERLANDS 

'' But Miss Chisholm can’t mean to turn from him 
now,” interrupted Celia. 

Carroll looked at her meaningly. 

‘‘No; she turned from him before he sailed. She 
heard something about him.” 

His companions appeared astonished. 

“ She couldn’t have heard anything that anybody 
could mind,” Kitty exclaimed indignantly. “ He’s 
not that kind of man.” 

“ It’s a compliment,” returned Carroll. “ I think 
he deserves it. At the same time, he’s a little rash, 
and now and then a man’s generosity is open to mis¬ 
conception. In this case, I don’t think one could al¬ 
together blame Miss Chisholm.” 

Kitty glanced at him sharply and then at Celia, 
who looked at first puzzled and then startled. Then 
the blood surged into Kitty’s cheeks. 

“Oh!” she gasped, as if she were breathless, “I 
was once afraid of something like this. You mean 
we’re the cause of it?” 

The course he followed was hateful to Carroll, but 
the tangle could not be straightened without hav¬ 
ing somebody’s feelings hurt, and it was his comrade 
about whom he was most concerned. 

“ I believe that you understand the situation,” he 
said quietly. 

He saw the fire in Kitty’s eyes and noticed that 
Celia’s face also was flushed, but he did not think 
their anger was directed against him. They knew the 
world they lived in, and, for that matter, he could 
share their indignation. He resented the fact that 
a little thing should bring swift suspicion upon them. 
He was, however, not required to face any discon- 


JESSY’S CONTRITION 349 

certing climax. Indeed, it struck him as curious that 
a difficult situation in which strong emotion was 
stirred up could become so tamely prosaic merely 
because it was resolutely handled in a matter-of-fact 
manner. 

“ Well,” inquired Celia, “ why did you tell us this? ” 

“ I think you both owe Vane something, and you 
can do him a great favor just now.” 

Kitty looked up at him. 

“ Don’t ask me too much, Mr. Carroll. I’m Irish, 
and I feel like killing somebody.” 

It’s natural,” responded Carroll with a sympa¬ 
thetic smile. I’ve now and then felt much the same 
way; it’s probably unavoidable in a world like this. 
However, I think you ought to call on Miss Chisholm, 
after I’ve gone, though you’d better not mention that 
I sent you. You can say you came for news of Vane 
— and add anything that you consider necessary.” 

The girls looked at each other, and at length, though 
it obviously cost her a struggle, Kitty said decidedly: 

We will have to go.” 

Then she faced round toward Carroll. 

‘‘ If Miss Chisholm won’t believe us, she’ll be sorry 
we came! ” 

Carroll made her a slight inclination. 

“ She’ll deserve it, if she’s not convinced. But it 
might be better if you didn’t approach her in the 
mood you’re in just now.” 

Kitty rose, motioning to Celia, and Carroll turned 
back with them toward the city, feeling a certain con¬ 
straint in their company and yet conscious of a strong 
relief. It had grown dark when he returned to 
Nairn’s house. 


350 VANE OF THE TIMBERLANDS 

“ Where have ye been ? his host inquired. “ I 
had a clerk seeking ye all round the city. I canna 
get ye a boat before the morn.” 

Carroll saw that Mrs. Nairn shared her husband’s 
desire to learn how he had been occupied. Evelyn 
also was in the room, and she waited expectantly for 
his answer. 

“ There were one or two little matters that required 
attention and I managed to arrange them satisfac¬ 
torily,” he explained. “ Among other things, I’ve 
got a tug, and I expect to sail in an hour or two. 
Miss Horsfield found me the vessel.” 

He noticed Evelyn’s interest, and was rather pleased 
to see it. If she were disposed to be jealous of Jessy 
it could do no harm. Nairn, however, frowned. 

“ I’m thinking it might have been better if ye had 
no troubled Jessy,” he commented. 

“ I’m sorry I can’t agree with you,” Carroll re¬ 
torted. The difference between this evening and 
noon to-morrow is a big consideration.” 

“ Weel,” replied Nairn resignedly; “I can no deny 
the thing, if ye look at it like that.” 

Carroll changed the subject; but some time later 
Mrs. Nairn sat down near him in the temporary ab¬ 
sence of her husband and Evelyn. 

“ We will no be disturbed for two or three minutes,” 
she said. “Ye answered Alic like a Scotsman be¬ 
fore supper and put him off the track, though that’s 
no so easy done.” 

Carroll grinned. He enjoyed an encounter with 
Mrs. Nairn, though she was, as a rule, more than a 
match for him. 

“ You’re too complimentary,” he declared. “ The 


JESSY’S CONTRITION 


351 

genuine Caledonian caution can’t be acquired by out¬ 
siders; it’s a gift.” 

‘‘ I’ll no practise it now,” returned the lady. “ Ye’re 
no so proud of yourself for nothing. What have ye 
been after?” 

Carroll crossed his finger-tips and looked at her over 
them. 

‘‘Since you ask the question, I may say this — If 
Miss Chisholm has two lady visitors during the next 
few days, you might make sure that she sees them.” 

“ What are their names? ” 

“ Miss Celia Hartley, the daughter of the prospector 
who sent Vane off to look for the timber, and Miss 
Kitty Blake, who, as you have probably heard, once 
came down the west coast with him, in company with 
an elder lady and myself.” 

Mrs. Nairn started, then she looked thoughtful, 
and finally she broke into a smile of open apprecia¬ 
tion. 

“ Now,” she ejaculated, “ I understand. I did no 
think it of ye. Ye’re no far from a genius! ” 

“ Thanks. I believe I succeeded better than I could 
have expected, and perhaps than I deserved.” 

They were interrupted then by Nairn, who came 
hastily into the room. 

“ There’s one of the Atlin deck-hands below,” he 
announced. “ He’s come on here from Horsfield’s 
to say that the boat’s ready with a full head of steam 
up, and the packers ye hired are waiting on the wharf.” 

Carroll rose and became in a moment intent and 
eager. 

“ Tell him I’ll be down almost as soon as he is. 
You’ll have to excuse me.” 


352 VANE OF THE TIMBERLANDS 

Two minutes later he left the house, and fervent 
good wishes followed him from the party on the stoop. 
He did not stop to acknowledge them, but shortly 
afterward the blast of a whistle came ringing across 
the roofs from beside the water-front. 


CHAPTER XXX 


CONVINCING TESTIMONY 

O NE afternoon three or four days after Carroll 
had sailed, Evelyn sat alone in Mrs, Nairn’s 
drawing-room, a prey to confused regrets and keen 
anxiety. She had recovered from the first shock 
caused her by Carroll’s news, but though she could 
face the situation more calmly, she could find no 
comfort anywhere — Vane was lying, helpless and 
famishing, in the frost-bound wilderness. She knew 
that she loved the man; indeed, she had really known 
it for some time, and it was that which had made 
Jessy’s revelation so bitter. Now, fastidious in 
thought and feeling as she was, she wondered whether 
she had been too hard upon him; it was becoming 
more and more difficult to believe that he could have 
justified her disgust and anger; but this was not what 
troubled her most. She had sent him away with cold 
disfavor. Now he was threatened by dangers. It 
was horrible to think of what might befall him be¬ 
fore assistance arrived, and yet she could not drive the 
haunting dread out of her mind. 

She was in this mood when a maid announced that 
two visitors wished to see her; and when they were 
shown in, she found it difficult to hide her astonish¬ 
ment as she recognized in Kitty the very attractive girl 
she had once seen in Vane’s company. It was this 

353 


354 VANE OF THE TIMBERLANDS 

which prompted her to assume a chilling manner, 
though she asked her guests to be seated. Neither 
of them appeared altogether at her ease, and there was, 
indeed, a rather ominous sparkle in Kitty’s blue eyes. 

Mr. Carroll was in town not long ago,” Kitty 
began bluntly. Have you had any news of him 
since he sailed ? ” 

Evelyn did not know what to make of the question, 
and she answered coldly. 

“ No; we do not expect any word for some time.” 

I’m sorry. We’re anxious about Mr. Vane.” 

On the surface, the announcement appeared signifi¬ 
cant, but the girl’s boldness in coming to her for news 
was inexplainable to Evelyn. Puzzled as she was, her 
attitude became more discouraging. 

You know him then? ” 

Something in her tone made Celia’s cheeks burn 
and she drew herself up. 

‘Wes,” she said; “we know him, both of us. I 
guess it’s astonishing to you. But I met him first 
when he was poor, and getting rich hasn’t spoiled Mr. 
Vane.” 

Evelyn was once more puzzled. The girl’s man¬ 
ner savored less of assurance than of wholesome 
pride which had been injured. Kitty then broke in: 

“We had no cards to send in; but I’m Kathleen 
Blake, and this is Celia Hartley — it was her father 
sent Mr. Vane off to look for the spruce.” 

“ Ah! ” exclaimed Evelyn, a little more gently, ad¬ 
dressing Celia. “ I understand that your father died.” 

Kitty flashed a commanding glance at Celia. 

“Yes,” the girl replied; “that is correct. He left 
me ill and worn out, without a dollar, and I don’t 


CONVINCING TESTIMONY 355 

know what I should have done if Mr. Vane hadn’t 
insisted on giving Drayton a little money for me; on 
account, he said, because I was a partner in the ven¬ 
ture. Then Miss Horsfield got some work among 
her friends for me to do at home. Mr. Vane must 
have asked her to; it would be like him.” 

Evelyn sat silent a few moments. Celia had given 
her a good deal of information in answer to a very 
simple remark; but she was most impressed by the 
statement that Jessy, who had prejudiced her against 
Vane, had helped the girl at his request. It was dif¬ 
ficult to believe that she would have done so had there 
been any foundation for her insinuations. If Celia 
spoke the truth, and Evelyn somehow felt this was the 
case, the whole thing was extraordinary. 

“ Now,” continued Celia, it’s no way astonishing 
that I’m grateful to Mr. Vane and anxious to hear 
whether Mr. Carroll has reached him.” This was 
spoken with a hint of defiance, but the girl’s voice 
changed. 

“ I am anxious. It’s horrible to think of a man 
like him freezing in the bush.” 

Her concern was so genuine and yet somehow so 
innocent that Evelyn’s heart softened. 

“ Yes,” she asserted, “ it’s dreadful.” Then she 
asked a question. ‘‘ Who’s the Mr. Drayton you 
mentioned ? ” 

Kitty blushed becomingly; this was her lead. 

He’s a kind of partner in the lumber scheme; I’m 
going to marry him. He’s as firm a friend of Mr. 
Vane’s as any one. There’s a reason for that — I 
was in a very tight place once, left without money in 
a desolate settlement where there was nothing I could 


3S6 vane of the timberlands 

do, when Mr. Vane helped me. But perhaps that 
wouldn’t interest you.” 

For a moment her doubts still clung to their hold 
in Evelyn’s mind, and then she suddenly drove the 
last of them out, with a stinging sense of humiliation. 
She could not distrust this girl; it was Jessy’s sug¬ 
gestion that was incredible. 

‘‘ It would interest me very much,” she declared. 

Kitty told her story effectively, but with caution, 
laying most stress upon Vane’s compassion for the 
child and her invalid mother. She was rather im¬ 
pressed by Miss Chisholm, but she supposed that she 
was endowed with some of the failing common to 
human nature. 

Evelyn listened with confused emotions and a 
softened face. She was convinced of the truth of the 
simple tale, and the thought of Vane’s keeping his 
moneyed friends and directors waiting in Vancouver 
in order that a tired child might rest and gather shells 
upon a sunny beach stirred her deeply. It was so 
characteristic; exactly what she would have expected 
him to do. 

Thank you,” she said quietly, when Kitty had 
finished; and then, flinging off the last of her reserve, 
she asked a number of questions about Drayton and 
about Celia’s affairs. 

Before her visitors left, all three were on friendly 
terms; but Evelyn was glad when they took their de¬ 
parture. She wanted to be alone to think. In spite 
of the relief of which she was conscious, her thoughts 
were far from pleasant. Foremost among them 
figured a crushing sense of shame. She had wickedly 
misjudged a man who had given her many proofs of 


CONVINCING TESTIMONY 357 

the fineness of his character; the evil she had im¬ 
puted to him was born of her own perverted imagi¬ 
nation. She was no better than the narrow-minded, 
conventional Pharisees she detested, who were swift 
to condemn out of the uncleanness of their self- 
righteous hearts. Then, as she began to reason, it 
flashed upon her that she was, perhaps, wronging her¬ 
self. Her mind had been cunningly poisoned by an 
utterly unscrupulous and wholly detestable woman, 
and she flamed out into a fit of imperious anger against 
Jessy. She had a hazy idea that this was not alto¬ 
gether reasonable, for she was to some extent fasten¬ 
ing the blame she deserved upon another person’s 
shoulders; but it did not detract from the comfort the 
indulgence in her indignation brought her. 

When she had grown a little calmer, Mrs. Naim 
came in; and Mrs. Nairn was a discerning lady. It 
was not difficult to lead Evelyn on to speak of her 
visitors, for the girl’s pride was broken and she felt 
in urgent need of sympathy; but when she had de¬ 
scribed the interview she felt impelled to avoid any 
discussion of the more important issues, even with the 
kindly Scotch lady. 

‘‘ I was surprised at the girls’ manner,” she con¬ 
cluded. “ It must have been embarrassing to them; 
but they were really so delicate over it, and they had 
so much courage.” 

Mrs. Nairn smiled. 

‘‘ Although one of them has traveled with third- 
rate strolling companies and the other has waited in 
a hotel? Weel, maybe your surprise was natural. 
Ye canna all at once get rid of the ideas and preju¬ 
dices ye were brought up with.” 


358 VANE OF THE TIMBERLANDS 

I suppose that was it,” replied Evelyn thought¬ 
fully. 

Her companion’s eyes twinkled. 

“ Then, if ye’re to live among us happily, ye’ll 
have to try. In the way ye use the words, some of 
the leading men in this country were no brought up 
at all.” 

“ Do you imagine that I’m going to live here? ” 

Mrs. Nairn gathered up one or two articles she had 
brought into the room with her and moved toward 
the door, but before she reached it she looked back 
with a laugh. 

‘‘ It occurred to me that the thing was no altogether 
impossible.” 

An hour afterward, Evelyn and Mrs. Nairn went 
down into the town, and in one of the streets they 
came upon Jessy leaving a store. The latter was not 
lacking in assurance and she moved toward them with 
a smile; but Evelyn gazed at her with a total disre¬ 
gard of her presence and walked quietly on. There 
was neither anger nor disdain in her attitude; to have 
shown either would have been a concession she could 
not make. The instincts of generations of gently- 
reared Englishwomen were aroused, as well as the 
revulsion of an untainted nature from something un¬ 
clean. 

Jessy’s cheeks turned crimson and a malevolent 
light flashed into her eyes as she crossed the street. 
Mrs. Nairn noticed her expression and smiled at her 
companion. 

‘‘ I’m thinking it’s as weel ye met Jessy after she 
had got the boat for Carroll,” she commented. 

The remark was no doubt justified, but the fact 


CONVINCING TESTIMONY 


359 


that Jessy had been able to offer valuable assistance 
failed to soften Evelyn toward her. It was merely 
another offense. 

In the meanwhile, the powerful tug steamed north¬ 
ward, towing the sloop, which would be required, and 
after landing the rescue party at the inlet steamed 
away again. Before she had disappeared Carroll be¬ 
gan his march, and his companions long remembered 
it. Two of them were accustomed to packing sur¬ 
veyors’ stores through the seldom-trodden bush and 
the others had worked in logging camps and chopped 
new roads, but though they did not spare themselves, 
they lacked their leader’s animus. Carroll, with all 
his love of ease, could rise to meet an emergency, and 
he wore out his companions before the journey was 
half done. He scarcely let them sleep; he fed them 
on canned stuff to save delay in lighting fires; and he 
grew more feverishly impatient with every mile they 
made. He showed it chiefly by the tight set of his 
lips and the tension of his face, though now and then 
when fallen branches or thickets barred the way he 
fell upon the obstacles with the ax in silent fury. 
For the rest, he took the lead and kept it, and the 
others, following with shoulders aching from the pack- 
straps and labored breath, suppressed their protests. 

Like many another made in that country, it was 
a heroic journey; one in which every power of mind 
and body was taxed to the limit. Delay might prove 
fatal. The loads were heavy; fatigue seized the 
shrinking flesh, but the unrelenting will, trained in 
such adventures, mercilessly spurred it on. Tough¬ 
ened muscle is useful and in the trackless North can 
seldom be dispensed with; but man’s strength does 


36o vane of the TIMBERLANDS 

not consist of that alone: there are occasions when 
the stalwart fall behind and die. 

In front of them, as they progressed, lay the unchang¬ 
ing forest, tangled, choked with fallen wreckage, laced 
here and there with stabbing thorns, appalling and 
almost impenetrable to the stranger. They must 
cleave their passage, except where they could take to 
the creek for an easier way and wade through sting- 
ingly cold water or flounder over slippery fangs of rock 
and ice-encrusted stones. There was sharp frost 
among the ranges and the brush through which they 
tore their way was generally burdened with clogging 
snow. They went on, however, and on the last day 
Carroll drew some distance ahead of those who fol¬ 
lowed him. It was dark when he discovered that he 
had lost them, but that did not matter, for now and 
then faint moonlight came filtering down and he was 
leaving a plain trail behind. His shoulders were 
bleeding beneath the biting straps; he was on the 
verge of exhaustion; but he struggled forward, panting 
heavily and rending his garments to rags as he smashed 
through the brakes in the darkness. 

The night — it seemed a very long one — was nearly 
over when he recognized the roar of a rapid that rang 
in louder and louder pulsations across the snow- 
sprinkled bush. He was not far from the end now, 
and he became conscious of an unnerving fear. The 
ground was ascending sharply, and when he reached 
the top of the slope the question from which he shrank 
would be answered for him — if there should be no 
blink of light among the serried trunks, he would 
have come too late. 

He reached the summit and his heart leaped; then 


CONVINCING TESTIMONY 361 

he clutched at a drooping branch to support himself, 
shaken by a reaction that sprang from relief. A 
flicker of uncertain radiance fell upon the trees ahead, 
and down the bitter wind there came the reek of 
pungent smoke. The bush was slightly more open, 
and Carroll broke into a run. Presently he came 
crashing and stumbling into the light of the fire and 
then stopped, too stirred and out of breath to speak. 
Vane lay where the red glow fell upon his face, smiling 
up at him. 

Well,” he said, ‘‘ you’ve come. I’ve been ex¬ 
pecting you, but on the whole I got along not so 
badly.” 

Carroll flung off his pack and sat down beside the 
fire; then he fumbled for his pipe and began to fill 
it hurriedly with trembling fingers. He lighted it and 
flung away the match before he spoke. 

Sorry I couldn’t get through sooner,” he mumbled. 
‘‘ The stores on board the sloop were spoiled; I had to 
go on to Vancouver. But there are things to eat in 
my pack.” 

“ Hand it across. I haven’t been faring sumptu¬ 
ously the last few days. No, sit still! I’m supple 
enough from the waist up.” 

He proved it by the way he leaned to and fro as 
he opened the pack and distributed part of its con¬ 
tents among the cooking utensils. Carroll assisted 
him now and then but he did not care to speak. The 
sight of the man’s gaunt face and the eagerness in his 
eyes prompted him to an outbreak of feeling rather 
foreign to his nature, and he did not think his com¬ 
panion would appreciate it. When the meal was 
ready. Vane looked up at him. 


362 VANE OF THE TIMBERLANDS 

“ I’ve no doubt this journey cost you something — 
partner,” he said. 

Then they ate cheerfully, and Carroll, watching his 
friend’s efforts with appreciation, told his story in 
broken sentences. Afterward, they lighted their pipes, 
but by and by Carroll’s fell from his relaxing grasp. 

I can’t get over this sleepiness,” he explained. 

I believe I disgraced myself in Vancouver by going 
off in the most unsuitable places.” 

I dare say it was quite natural. Anyway, hadn’t 
you better hitch yourself a little farther from the fire? ” 

Carroll did so and lay still afterward, but Vane kept 
watch during the rest of the night, until in the dawn 
the packers appeared. 


CHAPTER XXXI 


VANE IS REINSTATED 

TJREAKFAST was over and the two men, wrapped 
^ in blankets, lay on opposite sides of the fire, while 
the packers reclined in various ungainly attitudes about 
another. Now that they had a supply of provisions, 
haste was not a matter of importance, and there was 
no doubt that the rescue party needed a rest. Carroll 
was aching all over and was somewhat disturbed in 
mind. He had not said anything about their financial 
affairs to his comrade yet, and the subject must be 
mentioned. It was, from every point of view, an 
unpleasant one. 

“ What about the Clermont? ’’ Vane asked at length. 
‘‘ You needn’t trouble about breaking the news — 
come right to the point.” 

‘‘ Then, to all intents and purposes, the company 
has gone under; it’s been taken over by Horsfield’s 
friends. Nairn has sold our stock — at considerably 
less than face value,” Carroll explained, adding a brief 
account of the absorption of the concern. 

Vane’s face set hard. 

‘‘I anticipated something of the kind last night; 
I saw how you kept clear of the matter.” 

“ But you said nothing.” 

No. I’d had time to consider the thing while I 
lay here, and it didn’t look as if I could have got an 

363 


364 VANE OF THE TIMBERLANDS 

intelligible account out of you. But you may as well 
mention how much Nairn got.” 

He lay smoking silently for a few minutes after he 
learned the amount, and Carroll was strongly moved to 
sympathy. He felt that it was not the financial reverse 
but one indirect result of it which would hit his com¬ 
rade hardest. 

'' Well,” Vane said grimly, “ I suppose Fve done 
what my friends would consider a mad thing in coming 
up here — and I must face the reckoning.” 

Carroll wondered whether their conversation could 
be confined to the surface of the subject, because there 
were depths beneath it that it would be better to leave 
undisturbed. 

‘‘ After all, you’re far from broke,” he encouraged 
him. “ You have what the Clermont stock brought 
in, and you may make something out of this shingle 
scheme.” 

There was bitterness in Vane’s laugh. 

When I left Vancouver for England I was gener¬ 
ally supposed to be well on the way to affluence, and 
there was some foundation for the idea. I had floated 
the Clermont in the face of opposition; people believed 
in me; I could have raised what money I required for 
any new undertaking. Now a good deal of my money 
and all of my prestige is gone; people have very little 
confidence in a man who has shown himself a failure. 
What’s more, I may be a cripple. My leg will prob¬ 
ably have to be broken again.” 

Carroll could guess his companion’s thoughts. 
There was a vein of stubborn pride in him, and he 
had, no doubt, decided it was unfitting that Evelyn’s 
future should be linked to that of a ruined man. This 


VANE IS REINSTATED 365 

was an exaggerated view, because Vane was in reality 
far from ruined, and even if he had been so, he had 
in him the ability to recover from his misfortunes. 
Still, the man was obstinate and generally ready to 
make a sacrifice for an idea. Carroll, however, con¬ 
soled himself with the reflection that Evelyn would 
probably have something to say upon the subject if 
she were given an opportunity, and he felt certain 
that Mrs. Nairn would contrive that she had one. 

I can’t see any benefit in making things out con¬ 
siderably worse than they are,” he objected. 

“Nor can I,” Vane agreed. “After all, I was 
getting pretty tired of the city, and I suppose I can 
raise enough to put up a small-power mill. It will 
be a pleasant change to take charge for a year or two 
in the bush. I’ll make a start at the thing as soon as 
I’m able to walk.” 

This was significant, as it implied that he did not 
intend to remain in Vancouver, where he would be 
able to enjoy Evelyn’s company; but Carroll made no 
comment, and Vane soon spoke again. 

“ Didn’t you mention last night that it was through 
Miss Horsfield that you got the tug? I was thinking 
about something else at the time.” 

“ Yes. She made Horsfield put some pressure on 
the people who had previously hired the boat.” 

“ That’s rather strange.” 

For a moment he looked puzzled, but almost im¬ 
mediately his face grew impassive, and Carroll knew 
that he had some idea of Jessy’s treachery. He was, 
however, sure that any suspicions his comrade enter¬ 
tained would remain locked up in his breast. 

“ I’m grateful to her, anyway,” Vane added. “ I 


366 VANE OF THE TIMBERLANDS 

dare say I could have held out another day or two, but 
it wouldn’t have been pleasant.” 

Carroll began to talk about the preparations for their 
return, which he soon afterward set about making, and 
early the next morning they started for the sloop, 
carrying Vane upon a stretcher they had brought with 
them. Though they had to cut a passage for it every 
here and there, they reached the sloop in safety, and 
after some trouble in getting Vane below and onto 
a locker, Carroll decided to sail straight for Vancouver. 
They were favored with moderate, fair winds, and 
though the little vessel was uncomfortably crowded, 
she made a quick passage and stole in through the 
Narrows as dusk was closing down one tranquil eve¬ 
ning. 

Evelyn had spent the greater part of the afternoon 
on the forest-crested rise above the city, where she 
could look down upon the inlet. She had visited 
the spot frequently during the last few days, watching 
eagerly for a sail that did not appear. There had been 
no news of Carroll since the skipper of the tug re¬ 
ported having landed him, and the girl was tormented 
by doubts and anxieties. She had just come back and 
was standing in Mrs. Nairn’s sitting-room, when she 
heard the tinkle of the telephone bell. A moment or 
two later her hostess entered hastily. 

'' It’s a message from Alic,” she cried. ‘‘ He’s 
heard from the wharf — Vane’s sloop’s crossing the 
harbor. I’ll away down to see Carroll brings him 
here.” 

Evelyn turned to follow her, but Mrs. Nairn waved 
her back. 

‘"No,” she said firmly; '‘ye’ll bide where ye are. 


VANE IS REINSTATED 


367 

See they get plenty lights on — at the stairhead and 
in the passage — and the room on the left of it ready.” 

She was gone in another moment, and Evelyn hastily 
carried out her instructions and then waited with what 
patience she could assume. At last there was a rattle 
of wheels outside, followed by a voice giving orders, 
and then a tramp of feet. The sounds brought her a 
strange inward shrinking, but she ran to the door, and 
saw two tattered men awkwardly carrying a stretcher 
up the steps, while Carroll and another assisted them. 
Then the light fell upon its burden and, half prepared 
as she was, she started in dismay. Vane, whom she 
had last seen in vigorous health, lay partly covered 
with an old blanket which had slipped off him to the 
waist. His jacket looked a mass of rags, his hat had 
fallen aside and his face showed hollow and worn 
and pinched. Then he saw her and a light leaped into 
his eyes, but the next moment CarrolFs shoulder hid 
him and the men plodded on toward the stairs. They 
ascended them with difficulty and the girl waited until 
Carroll came down. 

“ I noticed you at the door. I dare say you were 
a little shocked at the change in Vane,” he said. 

What he has undergone has pulled him down, but if 
you had seen him when I first found him, you’d have 
been worse startled. He’s getting on quite satisfac¬ 
torily.” 

Evelyn was relieved to hear it; and Carroll con¬ 
tinued : 

“ As soon as the doctor comes, we’ll make him more 
presentable; he can’t be moved till then, as I’m not 
sure about the last bandages I put on. Afterward, he’ll 
no doubt hold an audience.” 


368 VANE OF THE TIMBERLANDS 

There was nothing to do but wait, and Evelyn again 
summoned her patience. Before long, a doctor ar¬ 
rived, and Carroll followed him to Vane’s room. The 
invalid’s face was very impassive, though Carroll 
waited in tense suspense while the doctor stripped off 
the bandages and bark supports from the injured leg. 
He examined it attentively, and then looked around 
at Carroll. 

‘‘ You fixed that limb, when it was broken in the 
bush? ” he asked. 

Yes,” Carroll answered, with a desperate attempt 
to treat the matter humorously. ‘‘ But I really think 
we both had a hand in the thing. My partner favored 
me with his views; I disclaim some of the responsi¬ 
bility.” 

Then I guess you’ve been remarkably fortunate. 
Perhaps that’s the best way of expressing it.” 

Vane raised his head and fixed his eyes upon the 
speaker. 

It won’t have to be rebroken ? I’ll be able to walk 
without a limp? ” 

‘‘ It’s most probable.” 

Vane’s eyes glistened and he let his head -fall back. 

“It’s good news; better than I expected. Now if 
you could fix me up again. I’d like to get dressed. 
I’ve felt like a hobo long enough.” 

The doctor smiled indulgently. 

“We can venture to change that state of affairs, 
but I’ll superintend the operation.” 

It was some time before Vane’s toilet was com¬ 
pleted, and then Carroll surveyed him with humorous 
admiration. 


VANE IS REINSTATED 369 

‘‘ It strikes me you do us credit; and now I suppose 
I can announce that you’ll receive ? ” 

Nairn and his wife and Evelyn came in. Nairn, 
shaking hands with Vane very heartily, looked down at 
him with twinkling eyes. 

“ I’d have been glad to see ye, however ye had 
come,” he asserted, and Vane fully believed him. 
“ For a’ that, this is no the way I would have wished 
to welcome ye.” 

When a man won’t take his friends’ advice, what 
can he expect?” retorted Vane. 

Nairn nodded, smiling. 

“ Let it be a warning. If the making of your mark 
and money is your object, ye must stick to it and 
think of nothing else. Ye canna accumulate riches 
by spreading yourself, and philanthropy’s no lucrative, 
except maybe to a few.” 

‘‘ It’s good counsel, but I’m thinking that it’s a pity,” 
Mrs. Nairn remarked. “ What would ye say, 
Evelyn ? ” 

The girl was aware that the tone of light banter 
had been adopted to cover deeper feelings, which those 
present shrank from expressing; but she ventured to 
give her thoughts free rein. 

I agree with you in one respect,” she said. “ But 
I can’t believe the object mentioned is Mr. Vane’s only 
one. He would never be willing to pay the necessary 
price.” 

It was a delicate compliment uttered in all sincerity, 
and Vane’s worn face grew warm. He was, however, 
conscious that it would be safer to avoid being serious, 
and he smiled. 


370 VANE OF THE TIMBERLANDS 

Well,” he drawled, '' looking for timber rights is 
apt to prove expensive, too. I had a haunting fear 
that I might be lame, until the doctor banished-it. I’d 
better own that I’d no great confidence in Carroll’s 
surgery.” 

Carroll, keeping strictly to the line the others had 
chosen, made him an ironical bow; but Evelyn was not 
to be deterred. 

“ It was foolish.of,you to be troubled,” she declared. 
“ It isn’t a fault to be wounded in an honorable fight, 
and even if the mark remains, there is no reason why 
one should'be ashamed of it.” 

Mrs. Nairn glanced at the girl rather sharply, but 
Carroll came to his comrade’s relief. 

Strictly speaking, there wasn’t a wound,” he 
pointed out. ‘‘ Fortunately, it was what is known as 
a simple fracture. If it had been anything else, I’m 
inclined to think I couldn’t have treated it.” 

Nairn chuckled, as if this met with his approval; 
and his wife turned around as they heard a patter of 
footsteps on the stairs. 

“ Yon bell has kept on ringing ever since we came 
up,” she complained. ‘‘ I left word I was no to be 
disturbed. Weel ”— as the door opened —what is 
it, Minnie?” 

‘‘ The reception room’s plumb full,” announced the 
maid, who was lately from the bush. “If any more 
folks come along, I sure won’t know where to put ’em.” 

Now that the door was open, Evelyn could hear a 
murmur of voices on the floor below, and the next 
moment the bell rang violently again. It struck her 
as a testimonial to the injured man. Vane had not 
spent a long time in Vancouver, but he had the gift of 


VANE IS REINSTATED 


371 

making friends. Having heard of the sloop’s arrival, 
they had come to inquire for him, and there was ob¬ 
viously a number of them. 

Mrs. Nairn glanced interrogatively at Carroll. 

‘‘ It does no look as if they could be got rid of by a 
message.” 

I guess he’s fit to see them,” Carroll answered. 
“ We’ll hold a levee. If he’d only let me. I’d like to 
pose him a bit.” 

Mrs. Nairn, with Evelyn’s assistance, did so instead, 
rearranging the cushions about the man, in spite of 
his confused and half-indignant protests; and during 
the next half-hour the room was generally full. Peo¬ 
ple walked in, made sympathetic inquiries, or ex¬ 
changed cheerful banter, until Mrs. Nairn forcibly dis¬ 
missed the last of them. After this, she declared that 
Vane must go to sleep, and paying no heed to his as¬ 
sertion that he had not the least wish to do so, she 
led her remaining companions away. 

A couple of hours had passed when she handed 
Evelyn a large tumbler containing a preparation of 
beaten eggs and milk. 

Ye might take him this and ask if he would like 
anything else,” she said. “ I’m weary of the stairs 
and I would no trust Minnie. She’s handiest at 
spilling things.” 

Carroll grinned. 

“ It’s the third and. I’d better say firmly, the limit.” 

Then he assumed an aggrieved expression as 
Evelyn moved off with the tray. 

‘‘ I can’t see why I couldn’t have gone. I think 
I’ve discharged my duties as nurse satisfactorily.” 

I canna help ye thinking,” Mrs. Nairn informed 


372 VANE OF THE TIMBERLANDS 

him. “ But I would point out that ye have now and 
then been wrong.” 

‘‘ That’s a fact,” Carroll confessed. 

Evelyn fully shared his suspicions. Her hostess’s 
artifice was a transparent one, but she nevertheless fell 
in with it. She had seen Vane only in the company of 
others; this might be the same again to-morrow; and 
there was something to be said. By intuition as much 
as reason, she recognized that there was something 
working in his mind; something that troubled him 
and might trouble her. It excited her apprehension 
and animated her with a desire to combat it. That 
she might be compelled to follow an unconventional 
course did not matter. She knew this man was hers 
— and she could not let him go. 

She entered his room collectedly. He was lying, 
neatly dressed, upon a couch with his shoulders raised 
against the end of it, for he had thrown the cushions 
which supported him upon the floor. As she came in, 
he leaned down in an attempt to recover them, and 
finding himself too late looked up guiltily. The fact 
that he could move with so much freedom was a com¬ 
fort to the girl. She set the tray down on a table 
near him. 

Mrs. Naim has sent you this,” she said, and the 
laugh they both indulged in drew them together. 

Then her mood changed and her heart yearned over 
him. He had gone away a strong, self-confident, 
prosperous man, and he had come back defeated, 
broken in fortune and terribly worn. Her pity shone 
in her softening eyes. 

Do you wish to sleep ? ” she asked. 


VANE IS REINSTATED 


373 

“ No/’ Vane assured her; “I’d a good deal rather 
talk to you.” 

“ I want to say something,” Evelyn confessed. 
“ I’m afraid I was rather unpleasant to you the eve¬ 
ning before you sailed. I was sorry for it afterward; 
it was flagrant injustice.” 

“ Then I wonder why you didn’t answer the letter 
I wrote at Nanaimo.” 

“ The letter ? I never received one.” 

Vane considered this for a few moments. 

“ After all,” he declared, “ it doesn’t matter now. 
I’m acquitted ? ” 

“ Absolutely.” 

The man’s satisfaction was obvious, but he smiled. 

“ Do you know,” he said, “ I’ve still no idea of my 
offense ? ” 

Evelyn was exceedingly glad to hear it, but a warmth 
crept into her face, and as the blood showed through 
the delicate skin he fixed his eyes upon her intently. 

“ It was all a mistake; I’m sorry still,” she mur¬ 
mured penitently. 

“ Oh! ” he exclaimed in a different tone. “ Don’t 
trouble about it. The satisfaction of being acquitted 
outweighs everything else. Besides, I’ve made a 
number of rather serious mistakes myself. The 
search for that spruce, for instance, is supposed to be 
one.” 

“ No,” returned Evelyn decidedly; “ whoever thinks 
that, is wrong. It is a very fine thing you have done. 
It doesn’t matter in the least that you were unsuc¬ 
cessful.” 

“ Do you really believe that ? ” 


374 VANE OF THE TIMBERLANDS 

‘‘Of course How could I believe anything else? ’’ 

The man’s face changed again, and once more she 
read the signs. Whatever doubts and half-formed 
resolutions — and she had some idea of them — had 
been working in his mind were dissipating. 

“ Well,” he continued, “ I’ve sacrificed the best half 
of my possessions and have destroyed the confidence 
of the people who, to serve their ends, would have 
helped me on. Isn’t that a serious thing?” 

“ No; it’s really a most unimportant one. I ”— 
the slight pause gave the assertion force —“ really 
mean it.” 

Vane partly raised himself with one arm and there 
was no doubting the significance of his intent gaze. 

“ I believe I made another blunder — in England. 
I should have had more courage and have faced the 
risk. But you might have turned against me then.” 

“ I don’t think that’s likely,” Evelyn murmured, 
lowering her eyes. 

The man leaned forward eagerly, but the hand he 
stretched out fell short, and the trivial fact once more 
roused her compassion for his helplessness. 

“ You can mean only one thing! ” he cried. “ You 
wouldn’t be afraid to face the future with me now? ” 

“ I wouldn’t be afraid at all.” 

A half-hour later Mrs. Nairn tapped at the door 
and smiled rather broadly when she came in. Then 
she shook her head reproachfully. 

“Ye should have been asleep a while since,” she 
scolded Vane, and then turned to Evelyn. “ Is this 
the way ye intend to look after him? ” 

She waved the girl toward the door and when she 
joined her in the passage she kissed her effusively. 


VANE IS REINSTATED 


375 


“ Ye have got the man I would have chosen ye/' 
she declared. ‘‘ It will no be any fault of his if ye 
are sorry.” 

** I have very little fear of that,” laughed Evelyn. 



L 

i 

\ * , 
r 


• ' I 


i 


I 



- 


« 


. / 




4 


• * 




4 


.4 ■ 






« 


4 




I 






4 


\ 


> . 

I 

► 

^ • 

* 

•. , 



* 


I 














^-wm: 

^ ^ j. ^ N a'' 

:p^ ^ •>-- .X ' M^n. 


'f‘i^ v» ^ ^ 


■>' V 

« o o' ■> 

« - * 

^ 1 ‘ -7 . / 

9/. ^ » 1 ' * ' ^ 0 N 0 ^ .0^ 'o •'' » ' 

^ * 0 , \> ^ '>\^ -v > 0^ ^ ^ * 0 / ^ 

!^:?''i'^=' %■ - ^M0hl 

V.' '~^ ' ^ 

^ *'’ rvO ' Q_ * ^ 0.^ ^ ^ 

.. j" ,.. 0 ,\. *"'* 0 S^'-'* "> ’'‘° , 

° V .<'?•' “ <^im ' 

\ ^ ^-RvOf - 



'*’ ^V .p. ® -b ,V ^ ■ 

' “' ' ' .jA^'^.c 0 “ ‘ * ‘ ' ' V\‘ ° 





s'= 

A> Vi i^' o 

. «5, £=> ■ -i ’ c^' ^ ^ ^ * V ’ -A 

■ A „ •/•<>» V ^ -t *^J- V 

,<S^ ^b 

* 0 . 


5,0 O. >- 

^ 9 1 "' \V 


A 


^Wvv 

c^v * 

'=^. ’^ '> N 


n. 

/^ «. 


\ 


































































































































